Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 436
November 12, 2013
Wow! Blog Tour and Contest
I’m getting a late start today because I was up until 2 AM. I’m obsessing over Amazon’s ranking of Uniform Desires. Have you seen it? I took a screen shot after midnight:
So before I talk about the blog tour, I want to say THANK YOU to everyone who bought the boxed collection! As always, I hoped for good sales, but this is phenomenal. All of the ladies involved in this project are very, very grateful for your support! If you’d like to help us keep the momentum going, tell a friend, write a review, post something on your Facebook page or blog—every little bit of help you can provide will make a difference.
You already know about the Uniform Desires rafflecopter contest with the huge bundle of prizes we’re all giving away, right? If not, click on the link and head that way. You don’t want to miss out on your chance to win some very cool stuff!
In addition, Book Monster Promotions has organized a blog tour for us. Again, we have prizes, a chance to read sexy excerpts, and we’ll chime in at every stop to answer your questions or comments. Don’t worry if you missed the first day’s stops, you can circle back and comment. The list of stops and their links is below the pretty picture!
Uniform Desires (Make Mine Military) Box Set Book Blast – November 11 – 24
11/11 My Secret Romance Book Reviews
http://www.mysecretromancebookreviews.com/
11/11 Recommended Romance
http://recommendedromance.com
11/11 Shayna Renee’s Spicy Reads
http://shaynareneesspicyreads.com
11/12 Swept Away By Romance
http://www.sweptawaybyromance.com/
11/13 Riverina Romantics
http://riverinaromantics.blogspot.com/
11/13 Where the Night Kind Roam
http://paranormalromancenovel.com/
11/14 Close Encounters with the Night Kind
http://closeencounterswiththenightkind.blogspot.com
11/14 Crazy Four Books
http://crazyfourbooks.blogspot.com
11/15 Book Pages and Dripping Ink
http://bookpagesanddrippingink.blogspot.com
11/16 Mythical Books
http://mythicalbooks.blogspot.ro/
11/17 Snarky Mom Reads…
http://www.snarkymomreads.com
11/18 – Book Monster Reviews
http://www.bookmonsterreviews.com/
11/19 Miscellaneous Thoughts of a Bookaholic
miscellaneousthoughtsofabookaholic.blogspot.com
11/20 For the Love of Bookends
http://loveofbookends.blogspot.com/
11/21 KT Book Reviews
http://ktbookreviews.blogspot.com/
11/21 We Love Kink
http://www.welovekink.com
11/22 Book Lovin’ Mamas
http://booklovinmamas.com
11/22 Celestial Reviews
http://cecesreviews.blogspot.com
11/22 Coffee Talk Writers
http://coffeetalkwriters.com
11/23 Manga Maniac Café
www.mangamaniaccafe.com
11/24 Literal Hotties Naughty Book Reviews
http://literalhottiesnaughtybookreviews.blogspot.com/
11/24 Vampires, Werewolves, & Fairies, Oh My!
http://vampireswerewolvesfairiesohmy.blogspot.com/
Again, big sloppy kisses to all of you who bought the stories! Thanks for the exciting ride!
November 11, 2013
Elle James: SEAL’S Honor (Contest)
(also writing as Myla Jackson)
Comment for a chance to win this prize!
* * * * *
Navy SEALs jeopardize their lives and hearts in a battle-torn land when they vie for the love of one sexy Night Stalker helicopter pilot
Reed Tucker doesn’t believe in commitment, not when you’re a SEAL deployed in dangerous situations that could lead to death or dismemberment. Until he tangles the sheets with one hot pilot, Delaney O’Connell. His phobia against commitment is challenged when his best friend asks Delaney O’Connell to marry him and she doesn’t say no.
As a helicopter pilot for the 160th Night Stalkers, Delaney O’Connell knows the risks of loving a SEAL. She’s ferried her share of soldiers and frogmen into and out of danger. All she asks is that Tuck own up to his love for her. When he allows his friend to ask her to marry him without staking his own claim, she’s hurt and disappointed. When his friend loses an arm in battle, she can’t refuse his hand in marriage, not when he’s sacrificed so much for his country. In love with one man, about to marry another, she’s torn. Caught in a triangle of his own making, Tuck can’t dishonor his friend by stealing his fiancé.
Tuck and Delaney must come to grips with the happiness they owe themselves and the happiness of their friend who has given so much of himself.
Excerpt #1
Tuck lurked in the hallway outside the ladies room, waiting for her to emerge.
When Delaney stepped out, he snagged her arm and pulled her into the shadows at the end of the hall and into his tight embrace.
At first stiff, as soon as she realized who it was, she semi-melted into him, her body fitting perfectly against his. “Damn it, Tuck, you scared the crap out of me.” She batted his arm and stared up at him, her brow twisted into a tight frown. “You can’t go around grabbing me.”
He grinned. “Kiss me.”
“No.”
“Then I’ll have to kiss you.”
“What part of no—”
Almost a full foot taller than the petite, perfectly packaged helicopter pilot, Tuck bent to close the distance, sealing her mouth with his and effectively cutting off her argument. Loving the feel of her warm, full lips against his, he clamped his arms around her, lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist and spun her until her back was against the wall. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue past her teeth, whipping down the length of hers in a long sexy slide.
For a full fifteen seconds, she resisted, her hands pressing against his chest. Then her fingers curled into his shirt and she was kissing him back. Not gently, but like she’d gone without food for a week and was hungry for him, her mouth working over his, devouring him.
God, she tasted so good, like peaches and rum. Sweet, tangy and devilishly intoxicating.
When he broke for air, she leaned her head to the side. “I swore I wouldn’t do this again.”
“Why?” Tuck trailed kisses down the line of her exposed neck. Tuck paused at the base of her throat where her pulse thrummed like the patter of machinegun bullets, fast, furious and adrenaline-pumping. He liked it when he made her excited.
“Whatever this is between us has to end,” she insisted, even as her thighs tightened around his hips.
“Why now?” Tuck slid his hand down her arm, skimming the side of her breast. The nipple beneath her T-shirt puckered temptingly. His cock hardened in response. Where she’d been all hesitant to start something physical with him, in the end, she’d flown at him like she couldn’t get enough of him.
He thought once would be enough with Delaney. Once had lasted all night and through not two but three orgasms. She’d come so readily, she had to have been denying herself for a very long time.
Excerpt #2
When she emerged from the shower tent, wearing her flip flops and carrying her boots and uniform, a shadow slipped up beside her.
Before she could throw her boots at him, he slipped an arm around her waist, crushing her back against his front and clamping a hand over her mouth.
“Shh. It’s me, Tuck.” He dropped his hand from her mouth and turned her to face him.
“Damn it, Tuck. You can’t go around scaring a girl to death all the time.”
“You were so deep in thought, I’d have startled you either way. At least this way I get to hold you in my arms for a moment.”
He wore a tank top, gym shorts and tennis shoes.
“How’d you find me?”
“I pulled a few strings.” He bent to sweep her lips with his. “Are you mad?”
“I don’t want anyone getting the idea we’re fraternizing.”
He eased her into the deeper shadows between a tent and a Quonset hut made of sturdy metal. “How’s this?”
She raised her arms, pressed her body into his, her damp towel, T-shirt and flight suit dangling down his back. “Better.” All he had to do was part her robe and…
Tuck slid his hand up the back of her thigh and beneath the edge of her robe, cupping her naked bottom. She’d gone to the shower with only her robe and what she’d been wearing, so flustered by her talk with Lindsay, she’d forgotten clean underwear and her pajamas.
Now she was glad she had.
Excerpt #3
His chest tightened and before long, he had a hard time regulating his breathing. Finally, he slowed, turned and ran the opposite direction. He’d jog in the heat of the day rather than watch Ringer woo his girl. Instead, he ran sprints near the volleyball nets until he couldn’t stand it a moment longer. After a while, he walked back toward his quarters, the long way. The path that would take him back by Delaney’s tent. When he realized what he was doing, he almost turned around and headed back for more sprints.
Until he saw Delaney step out of the shower tent wearing clean shorts, a T-shirt and carrying her robe, towel and toiletries in hand. That robe was the clincher.
Tuck’s groin tightened on sight at how beautiful she’d been wearing it last night in the moonlight. And how naked, soft, warm and wet she’d been beneath.
He sped up, determined to catch her. What he’d say when he did, he didn’t know. Tuck only knew he had to say something. This deal with Ringer was eating at him and somehow it had to stop.
Before he reached her, Ringer jumped out from another path, carrying a giant teddy bear with a big red bow tied around its neck.
Delaney ground to a halt and laughed.
Tuck’s gut knotted at the sound. Even her laugh was sexy. Damn.
She accepted the teddy bear, hugging it close and burying her nose in the soft fake fur.
Where in hell had Ringer gotten a teddy bear in the desert?
Wherever he’d acquired it, Delaney was enjoying it more than Tuck liked. She leaned around the bear in her arms her lips puckered, aiming for Ringer’s cheek.
Ringer turned at the last second and her kiss meant for his cheek landed square on his lips. The asshole grinned, captured Delaney’s cheeks between his palms and kissed her again. “I knew you’d taste that sweet. And that’s just the beginning.”
Tuck’s fists balled and he lunged forward. Before he’d taken two steps, Delaney was shaking her head. “Cory, I don’t—”
Ringer pressed a finger to her lips. “Don’t decide anything. I’m not done yet. Be watching.”
Ringer left before Delaney could complete her sentence.
Damn. Surely she’d been about to tell him to take a hike. After kissing her like that, she should have slapped him.
Unless…
Tuck stopped still in his tracks. Was it possible she could fall for Ringer?
After last night?
Delaney stared down at the bear. “I can’t take you to the shower.” She turned toward her tent, her gaze finding Tuck standing like a lunk in the middle of the path.
Her smile immediately turned downward on the corners. She marched toward the tent, passing him with barely a glance. “What are you doing here, Tuck?”
“You kissed him.”
“So?” She stopped in the doorway.
“Why did you let him kiss you again?”
“Why does it matter to you?” She hugged the bear closer, like a shield between her and him.
Tuck wanted to rip the damned bear from her arms and tear it to shreds. “You don’t love him.”
“I could learn to love him. At least he cares enough about me to share his feelings.”
“Is that what you want?” He gripped her arms, the fuzz of the bear’s fake fur burning against his skin. “You want me to share my feelings? I’ll share. I’m pissed as hell.”
“I don’t see why?”
“You know damn well why.”
“I know that you aren’t into commitment. I know from your track record that you’ve pushed away every women you’ve ever let closer than a one night stand. ”
“I didn’t care about them.”
“And you care about me?”
“Yes.”
“Enough to say three simple words?”
“What words?”
“Oh, forget it. We have nothing left to say. I’m done.” She ducked into her tent and closed the door behind her.
“We’re not done until I say we’re done,” Tuck practically shouted, making the group of soldiers in uniform passing by at that moment turn and stare. “What are you looking at?”
“Man, you need to turn down the volume. Some people are still asleep,” a staff sergeant said.
Tuck wanted to tell the staff sergeant to shove it, but thought better of it. He outranked him and therefore had to set the example. And he wasn’t doing a good job of it. Which made him even madder.
About the Author
ELLE JAMES also writing as MYLA JACKSON is an award-winning author of stories including cowboys, intrigues and paranormal adventures that keep her readers on the edges of their seats. With over seventy stories in a variety of sub-genres and lengths she’s published with Harlequin, Samhain, Elloras’ Cave, Kensington, Cleis Press, and Avon. When she’s not at her computer, she’s traveling, out snow-skiing, boating, or riding her ATV, dreaming up new stories. Learn more about Elle James at www.ellejames.com
Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads | Newsletter
Or visit her alter-ego Myla Jackson at mylajackson.com
Website| Blog | Facebook| Twitter | Newsletter
November 10, 2013
A Question…
Yes, tomorrow’s the official release date of Uniform Desires, but I think you already know what a great deal it is and about the huge contest the authors are running! So ’nuff said, right?
This post will be quick, because I have words to commit to the page. At the moment, I am flying through Mondo’s story in the Delta Heat series. So far, so good. He’s found the perfect girl—someone dying for his brand of kink—an unschooled subbie ready to be molded if he can teach her the joys of actually submitting heart and soul…
What is the worst first impression you’ve ever made? It could be something that happened in a job interview, a first date, anything. Have fun!
November 9, 2013
Flashback and Contest: Strokes, Vol. 2
Monday’s the day… Veteran’s day and the release date for Uniform Desires! I hope you’ve already pre-ordered your copy and that you’ve entered the huge rafflecopter contest! Tons of prizes will be awarded, so take an extra moment to head on over there to enter! Okay, that’s the end of my commercial.
Let’s talk about today’s flashback…
I love writing short stories—whether it’s for someone else’s anthology or my own, and sometimes, as with “Two Hot,” I like to publish them alone. Not everyone loves a shorter story, but I like writing them and reading them. They are a little slice of life, and the challenge is always to get to the point quickly, serve a satisfying little vignette, and close with a flourish. It’s not easy. I have friends who’d rather write a full-length novel than tackle a short story. Every word counts. There’s no room for a meandering tale. I use every story as an exercise in honing my precision so that when I write the longer stories, I bring that same focus to ensure I make every word and scene count.
But what does one do when they have a bunch of short stories that have appeared in various publications? I like to group them into volumes to give my readers a chance to see them. Not everyone can buy up every collection I appear in, so my Strokes volumes are my way to share them. The excerpt I’m sharing below first appeared in Cleis Press’s Suite Encounters. Then it was featured in the November 2012 issue of Penthouse! But you can read it in its entirety, along with seven other naughty bedtime tales, in Strokes, Vol. 2. Enjoy the excerpt!
I’ll post the winner of today’s contest Monday morning!
Post a comment and you’ll be entered to win a free download of this book!
From National Bestselling Author, Delilah Devlin, comes another naughty collection of seven bedtime stories—a week’s worth of nighttime reading pleasure.
Ride along with two soldiers, just returned from war, who find sweet release in “The Long Ride Home.” In “Tailgating at the Cedar Inn,” a woman has one last fling with two sexy construction workers. A cowboy kidnaps his “Runaway Bride” to get some sweet satisfaction. A woman travelling alone in Europe enjoys a hot steamy sauna in the “Textile Free” zone. In “Love in Bloom,” a florist tempts her high school crush. A naughty nooner with an office colleague ends in a “Quick Draw.” A dispatcher kicks inhibitions to the door when she seduces a younger truck driver in “Drive Me Crazy.”
Four of the stories have appeared in separate Cleis Press anthologies. Two of the stories were featured in Penthouse magazine! All the stories are featured in one sinfully hot collection…
From “Tailgating at the Cedar Inn”
I stepped out of the shower onto chipped and cracked aqua blue tiles with grout so dingy I couldn’t tell what color it had been. Not that the bathroom was dirty, thank god. Just old. Like the rest of the 60’s-built motel I’d found on the little back country road.
Standing before the sink, I toweled my hair then shook my head like a dog, not caring where the droplets landed. The mess wasn’t one I’d have to clean. For one last night, I could be irresponsible, messy, even if only in a small way.
I draped the towel over the edge of the old white tub and sauntered naked into the small room with the double bed. The air smelled of tobacco and industrial cleansers. The bedding looked clean if a little nappy from wear, but I peeled back the quilt-top and tossed it on the floor anyway. Pristine white sheets beckoned.
Just as I lay back, sighing with relief, sounds from outside the room jarred me from my happy haze. Tires squealed, masculine laughter bellowed through the thin walls, and car doors slammed.
A sigh escaped and I stared at the bared rafters above. The laughter faded. I reached across to flip off the switch to the nightstand lamp with its yellowed shade. Lying in the darkness, I willed my body to relax, one limb at a time. That day, I’d driven three hundred miles. I’d have gone another fifty for a decent hotel, but the shorter route my Garmin dictated led me through narrow two-lane roads deep in the Ozark Mountains. I doubted I’d have found anything nicer.
Maybe I should have stuck to the Interstate, but I’d wanted to shave some miles. Little did I know the route would keep my foot busy pushing on the gas pedal then the brake the whole way. Exhausted with nerves shattered, I’d seen the crooked Vacancy sign outside the Cedar Inn and made my decision on the spot, swerving into the empty gravel parking lot. Not until I’d opened the door to my tiny, musty room did I have second thoughts about my decision. But how bad could the room really be? I’d turned on the swamp cooler set into a window frame and felt my hair frizz instantly.
Not that I’d really cared. No one was around to impress. Other than the clerk at the front desk, a skinny, twenty-something redneck with puppy dog eyes, the place was deserted. At the thought, I’d shivered a little bit, double-bolted my room door and checked the lock on the window. Visions of the shower scene from Psycho didn’t put me off taking a long, lukewarm soak to wash away the road grime and sweat.
The cooler purred, spilling muggy air into the room. The sheets felt clammy. Still, I grew calm as my body warmed the sheets beneath me, then a little horny when I wondered if the room might have little peepholes for the clerk to watch me. He’d been cute, if a little skinny. I wouldn’t mind if he watched—at least not in my fantasies. Who knew how long before I felt comfortable enough, private enough to indulge in a little one-handed play when my grandmother slept in the room next to mine.
I slipped a hand between my thighs and lazily trailed my fingers through my cleft until my breath caught and heat pooled. I raised my knees and let them fall open, tilted my hips and thrust two fingers inside my pussy. I wasn’t in a hurry. I wasn’t even that eager to come. The motion soothed and excited, allowing my mind to let go of my troubles—the firing, the break-up, the move to my grandmother’s house—and focus only on the pleasure curling deep inside my core.
When the blare of a TV sounded from outside, I had third and fourth thoughts about my decision to stop here for the night. What the hell? Why had someone moved their television set outside rather than watch in the seclusion of their room where the sound would be somewhat muffled.
I gritted my teeth, swung my legs over the side of the bed and reached for shorts and a tee, slipping them over my nude body and jammed the keys in my pocket before I stomped to the door and flung it open.
Not that the two men sitting on the truck noticed me—at first.
Under the single flood light that illuminated the parking lot, I noted the construction company logo on the side of the pickup backed up to the door of the room beside mine. Then I eyed the large men seated on the sides of the truck bed, their shirts gone, faded jeans stretched over thick thighs. Their attention was glued to the basketball game, blaring from the small screen of the TV resting in the bed of the truck on top of a white ice chest. They held Budweisers in their grips.
At last, one of the men’s heads turned. He spotted me then whistled at his friend. Soon, both their gazes peered down.
I felt foolish standing in my bare feet with wet hair spiked around my head. Why hadn’t I simply put a pillow over my head to muffle their noise? But I was testy. Moody. I’d lost my job, had a blow-up with my boyfriend over the fact I wouldn’t be splitting rent for a while, and cut my nose off to spite my own face by breaking up with him. Homeless now, I had no options. Grandma’s in Little Rock was my last resort.
Tonight would be my last night of freedom before I moved under her roof and abided by her rules. She’d pay the bills—if I knuckled under and went back to college. Something I resented after being on my own for a couple of years, living on my schedule.
Which might have been exactly why I remained rooted to that spot. The men seated on the truck would never meet Grandma’s high standards.
Sweat gleamed on their naked chests and both men were thickly muscled and a little dirty—as though they’d come straight from work without the benefit of a shower.
The shine only served to emphasize the depth of the musculature and their starkly masculine features. Their tanned, leathery skin stretched across cheeks and jaws sharpened to rough edges by hard work. Both their gazes homed on me.
While I knew the smart thing would have been to retreat without a word to my room and relock the door, I tilted my chin and thrust out my chest. “Can’t you watch the game in your room?”
“We botherin’ you, sweetheart?” the one closest to me said, sliding off the truck to land in front of me.
I peered a long way up and frowned into the face tilted my way. We stood close enough I could see the bristles of his evening shadow. He wore a ball cap that shadowed his eyes, but glints of blond hair shone beneath it. “It’s late. I was trying to sleep.”
“Not that late,” he drawled. “Join us for a beer?”
I glanced behind him and noted the grin on his buddy’s face. He was bare-headed with shaggy brown hair and a devilish quirk to his firm lips. The game seemed to have lost its fascination. Their gazes drank me down like I was a long cool drink of their favorite beverage.
I barely resisted the urge to jut my hip and twirl my hair.
“Bobby, the night clerk, can vouch for us if you’re wonderin’ whether we’re safe,” the one beside me said, amusement lingering in his husky voice.
I shouldn’t have been tempted. However, my body still hummed pleasurably from the heat I’d drawn with my own lazy fingers. Even sweaty, the two men were tempting. Both young, in good shape. Both interested, if their sharpening gazes were any indication.
And what the hell? I no longer had anyone to answer to. Not at this moment. And no boyfriend to betray.
My mouth went dry and I swallowed. “Is the beer cold?”
His friend bent and picked up the TV, setting it to the side to open the top of the cooler. The can of beer he drew out was wet with nuggets of ice sliding off the sides. He flicked open the top and handed it me. “Like basketball?”
“Not particularly.”
His head canted. “Not from around here, are you?”
“I’m from Iowa.”
“A corn-fed girl,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to my chest.
“Not a cow or a pig,” I ground out.
“Don’t put words in my mouth.” His lips twitched then stretched into a lazy grin. “Name’s Owen. My buddy here’s Chris.”
I gave them both a narrow-eyed look, then turned and hopped up to sit on the open tailgate. “I’m Kelsey,” I said, pretending to be more confident than I really was.
The TV fell silent. The man in the truck bed eased down beside me. The other one stood in front of me, feet braced apart as he took another draw on his beer. “Where ya headed?” he asked after crushing the can in his hand and tossing it behind me to land with a thud on the truck bed.
“Little Rock,” I said, all nervousness gone. I sipped from my beer.
Chris grunted. Beside me, Owen chuckled. “Small world.”
“I take it that’s where you’re from?”
“Yep. Visitin’ family?”
“My grandmother. I’m moving there to help out.”
“It’s nice you’re able to do for her.”
More like she was doing for me, but I wasn’t willing to admit just how stupid I’d been. Lowering my head, I said, “We’re helping each other out.” My expression must have fallen because Chris stepped closer and tucked a finger under my chin to raise my face.
I didn’t bat away his hand as I should have, but met his steady gaze. I don’t know what he saw, but his lips relaxed into a semblance of a smile.
The slight motion drew my attention, and for the first time, I realized just how attractive that mouth was. His lips were full, and when they stretched, white teeth flashed. A man with good teeth. Something I imagined wasn’t plentiful in backwoods Arkansas.
I stared a moment too long. Heat crept slowly down my neck and across my chest. My nipples tightened, poking out the thin tee stretched across my breasts. He didn’t miss the sudden surge of arousal because his feet shuffled closer.
Breathing became something I had to think about doing. I swept my upper lip with my tongue, opening my mouth to say something, but he bent toward me. Slowly. His narrowed eyes daring me to draw away.
I didn’t. The beer can was plucked from my lifeless fingers, and I gripped the edge of the tailgate, wrapping them around it to brace myself for a kiss.
His mouth was tentative, teasing, sliding over mine and rubbing in a circular movement that pulled me along, until I was moving with him, following to make sure I didn’t lose the seductive heat.
When he drew back, he smiled. “You know, sweetheart, you don’t have to be alone tonight.”
I blinked and glanced to the side at Owen.
“Package deal,” Chris said, drawing my attention back.
Package deal. Two packages. Mine to enjoy.
Heart racing, I opened my mouth and drew a quick breath, suddenly nervous. “I don’t…” I cleared my throat. “I’ve never…”
“We have,” he said quickly, cupping my chin and sliding a thumb over my still moist lower lip. “Nothin’ to be worried about. Cedar Inn’s quiet. Clean. You’ve got the single room, right? Come to ours, and we’ll shove the mattresses together. Plenty of room.”
Moisture seeped to soak the crotch of my shorts. My clit throbbed and hardened. I could end it now and go back to my bed, slide my fingers over the knot and come in an instant, but their tangy scent and seductive heat surrounded me. I imagined being sandwiched between them both—slick, hot skin sliding against mine, front and back. I squeezed my thighs because they were beginning to quiver. Suddenly, I had options. One safe. One not so much—but wickedly enticing.
“No pressure,” Owen said, dropping a slow kiss on the corner of my shoulder. “You call the shots. Whatever you want.”
What I wanted was for them to make a move. Make up my mind for me, because I didn’t think I was capable of speaking.
Chris laid his palms on the tops of my bare thighs and slid his thumbs between them, then slowly opened me, stepping closer, forcing my legs wider again until his crotch was flush with mine.
His erection was impossible to ignore. A thick, insistent bulge. “Maybe you don’t want a bed?” he murmured. “Maybe you want it here?”
His crudeness excited me. Challenged me in a way I’d never have accepted in my former life. I tossed my head. “But someone will see.”
“Maybe. Might only be Bobby, but he won’t mind. Will you?”
Owen slipped a hand behind me and rucked up my shirt until the fabric bunched under my arms. My belly bare, the warm night air blew across my skin, feeling like a caress. My stomach tightened.
I glanced between them, noted the tension riding both their jaws. They wouldn’t make a move without my consent, but they’d pounce the second I did. Heady with my power, I let the moment stretch.
Then I leaned forward and raised my arms, keeping my gaze locked with Chris’s as Owen pulled the garment all the way off.
Both men breathed deeply as they stared at my breasts. Chris cupped one, hefted it in his palm then squeezed. Owen wet a finger and circled the other nipple, pausing to scratch a nail across the tip. It hardened into a peak.
“You’re pretty,” Chris muttered.
“Doesn’t sound like you’re happy about that.”
“Don’t pay any mind to what he says,” Owen said. “He’s hard. He doesn’t think straight when he gets that way. Take it as a compliment.”
Chris plucked my nipple and released it, watching it bounce back. His gaze darted to mine again, then he slipped his fingers inside the waist of my shorts and rubbed the top of my mound. “Can I take these off too?”
This time I didn’t mind his blunt tone. The air between us felt charged with a current that pricked my nipples and caused my pussy to contract.
In for a penny… I was already committed. So hot I was panting. I nodded, then gasped when Owen eased me back and Chris went to work unsnapping my shorts and dragging them off my legs.
Then Owen pushed me forward and slid behind me, urging me to rest against his naked chest. Chris opened his jeans and pushed them off his hips, freeing his cock. He leaned over me, pressing me harder against Owen who chuckled as Chris hooked his elbows beneath my thighs and lifted my bottom.
“A condom?” I gasped, one last shred of sanity remaining before my mind completely filled with the sight of him. He was thick, long, a straight cudgel of a cock. Twice the girth of the last man I’d had.
“Pocket,” he ground out.
I reached for the scrunched up top of his jeans and pulled out his wallet. My hands shook, but I found the tri-fold of foil packets and tore one off. He watched as I clumsily cloaked him in the latex sheath. Then he was there, pushing inside me.
The moment he entered me, my mind clicked. Fuck, I’m really doing this.
November 8, 2013
Check out the mountain of great prizes!
Can you tell how excited we’re getting about the release of our boxed collection, Uniform Desires? Well, here I am again, pimping it out, but you really do want to pay attention. We’ve got a huge contest starting, and you don’t want to miss your chance to enter it. The list of prizes is…well, HUGE. So follow the rafflecopter link for details!
And if you haven’t already pre-ordered your copy, do it now! The price for all 6 stories is just $.99, and that won’t last long!
November 7, 2013
Sharon Hamilton: The Adventure of Doing Audio Books
I’ve just completed the process of creating an audio book through ACX and have to say it was a joy. I stumbled upon just the right actor/singer/musician who had what can only be described as The Voice. But he also turned out to be a great guy to work with. He was patient with me, and clearly “got” my book and the characters.
Accidental SEAL is Book 1 in the SEAL Brotherhood series, so naturally I decided to record that one first. I listened to all the talent in the ACX catalog and found several I liked, and asked to audition. But when I heard them read my excerpt, I didn’t like the outcome. Then when I played JD Hart’s audition, I got chills. I mean, here was my hero speaking back just like I had imagined he’d do.
It was a little daunting hearing a man I had never met read over my sex scenes. I played his recordings softly and then listened to them in bed with headphones, hoping no one else in the house would hear them. Okay, I was a virgin at this. It’s a very personal thing to open up your creative energies to someone you don’t know.
We went back and forth, and I highly recommend when selecting a narrator, you get someone who is not only talented and professional, but with whom you have an easy communication with. We got into a rhythm and in sync so that we were working on the book sort of at the same time, and could work by email.
One thing I learned from this was that I had a lot of characters. Each character had to have a distinctive voice, and I know this was a challenge for him, but he did it exceptionally well. So, another thing to consider when hiring an ACX Narrator, listen to them read a chapter where there are lots of characters – more than 2 at least. Again, I got lucky. Hired someone who was actually an actor. I could have gotten stuck with someone who couldn’t do this and might have had half the book recorded by the time I figured it out.
One other thing he can do is music. I bought a licensing agreement to play a cut from one of my favorite artists: Two Steps From Hell. I listen to them while I write my SEAL stories. With names like Strength of a 1000, Everlasting, United We Stand, Dark Harbor, Dragon Rider, Ironwing, and my favorite, Everlasting Love how can you not get inspired to write about great heroes who put it all on the line? I mean, my muse wants to get nekkid with all of them.
As I’ve said so many times today, there is absolutely nothing I’d rather be doing than writing military romances. Hope you’ll join me in this thrilling journey.
Book 3 of the series, SEAL Under Covers, is out now.
That left Armando holding the door open to the old beater truck. Damn, but the guy was cool. The happenings in the strip joint hadn’t seemed to ruffle him one bit. He’d have been just as comfortable getting black, blue, and bloody. Gina wondered where he would draw the line.
Do I know where to draw the line? Well, his was personal. Hers was her job. But it was definitely fucked that her ex-boyfriend had to land himself in the middle of her professional world too.
But that’s what kind of a choice you made, Gina. Always making the wrong choices when it came to men. In a way, very much like Mia.
She watched Armando standing there, waiting for her. The other car was waiting for her as well.
Never waste an opportunity to make another bad decision. Her roommate in college used to say that every day, while at the same time managing to bed most of the football team and as many of the soccer players as she could get. Gina always waited up for her, just in case she needed a ride or got too drunk. Just like she was now trying to do for Mia. It was the reason she became a cop. Another bad decision? Well, it certainly was something that had been locked and loaded way down inside her soul after she got the call from the police that fateful night. That night when her roommate became someone’s victim and Gina had sat waiting for a call that would never come.
She wondered what would ruffle this man of steel, amazed that he could make choices so quickly as he had just now. Was he ever afraid in his job like she was in hers?
What threshold am I walking through tonight?
She leaned over to look around the SEAL, checking on Mia in the passenger seat of her own car. Of course she would be safe with the little warrior, a guy who would probably die trying to protect her, from what Mia had said. But this one standing in front of her, balancing on one hip, leaning against the door, his muscular arms worthy of any Popeye character, was dangerous.
To her heart.
“Do I have a choice?” she said to him, watching that smirky little smile and sexy eyes making fun of her while her heart did flip-flops. She’d been close to peeing on herself while she sat and watched her ex-boyfriend nearly call out the brother—the SEAL brother of the woman they were working. It had been wrong on so many levels, even the Pope couldn’t dish out enough forgiveness.
“Get in.” It was a command that made her tense, but the smile he flashed afterwards made her panties wet. Suddenly her ankles wobbled and she nearly fell, which would have been totally uncool. And damn, if he didn’t reach out and put a strong, muscled arm around to steady her. He let her go after he gave her one hurried squeeze, just tight enough for her to learn he was aroused.
Another footnote to a perfectly fucked evening. Her mission was nearly blown. Why did she feel guilty for that? They were supposed to be hanging out with the gang by the stage. Well, she couldn’t help it if Sam and the rest of the crew had decided to pull a game change on her. As she slid onto the torn leather seat of the old truck, she smiled at the recollection. It had been damned satisfying, slapping Sam and tossing the drink into his face. She’d stared right back at him when he showed his anger. And she didn’t flinch or cower this time. She was filled with pride. She’d stood up to him, finally!
But now what? On any other evening, getting into a truck with a SEAL would be a no-brainer. Nothing wrong with a night of sex with a hot guy, if that was where he was headed. She wasn’t completely sure, but she wasn’t that rusty that she couldn’t recognize a good, clean come-on. The fact that he was the brother of their party of interest and it was totally forbidden only heightened her anticipation. But decisions like that were never good ones. She had to put a stop to this somehow.
Tell that to my body. She watched him walk around the front of the vehicle and, yes, she squeezed her eyes shut and imagined him naked.
Get a grip, Gina. As much as she hated to admit it, something about the man set her insides on fire. He was all the right kinds of dangerous for her. A hero. Breathtakingly good-looking in that Latin Lover way she loved in men. Shiny black hair worn a little too long. Tanned complexion with just a hint of stubble. Body well-honed and disciplined. He knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. And he loved his sister, which was the biggest heart-snag of all.
He got in the driver seat, slammed the rickety door closed and sighed.
Did all the air just get sucked out of the truck? It seemed like minutes as she watched him blankly stare through the windshield, his face illuminated by the red taillights of Mia’s vehicle, now pulling away in front of them. Those dark eyes with long lashes and succulent, full lips. She shouldn’t have stared so long, but she couldn’t help it.
He tilted his head and turned in her direction. The eyes didn’t lie. He had the fire inside that his sister had, but in all the right places, not the wrong ones, like Mia. She let him appreciate the red fuzzy dress with the scoop neckline. She didn’t care if her chest got blotchy with nerves or if her cheeks flushed. And, of course, her nipples perked right up
“So how is this going to work?” he asked. The words slid out like satin sheets.
“I’m not quite sure I know what you mean,” she heard herself say in response. She made a point to beat the waver from her voice.
“I take you to your place, or to Mia’s?”
“Mia’s.”
“Your car there?”
“No, I took a cab.”
“And so how would you get home?”
“You assume I want to go home. Maybe I’m going to stay over.”
“I don’t see a pajama bag.”
The crease at the side of his mouth dimpled and she watched the tip of his tongue running across his bottom lip. The words “pajama bag” had never sounded so sexy.
She stuck her chin out, looking back at him with heavy-lidded eyes, and whispered, “I don’t wear pajamas.”
Sharon Hamilton
Life is one fool thing after another.
Love is two fool things after each other.
Sharon’s Blog ** Sharon’s Website ** Facebook**Twitter
November 6, 2013
Phoebe Conn: Why I Love Reviews (Contest)
I learned to read before I went to kindergarten and have always loved books. When I began to write, I knew how to create a memorable story because I had read so many. Every book provides a lesson of its own.
Book clubs are great places to make friends and read books you might not have chosen on your own. I belong to three book clubs and each has it own personality and focus. One group loves mysteries and sci/fi. Another reads women’s fiction, and the third has potluck dinners and selects a lot of nonfiction. If you have never belonged to a book club, you might want to join one or form one with your friends. You’ll be surprised at the different reactions to books. Some people will love a book and call it a favorite while others find it too tedious to finish.
This month, one book club read THE FAULT IN OUR STARS by John Green. It’s been on the bestseller list for more than a year. It’s told by 16-year-old Hazel Grace who meets 17-year-old Augustus at a cancer support group. It’s a poignant story about life, love and death, important issues at every age. There are sure to be tears when you read it, but it’s also one of the best books I’ve read this year, or ever.
Most of the book club also loved the book, but one woman who is a hospital lab technician said some of the hospital details weren’t accurate, and that spoiled the book for her. We accept everyone’s opinion without asking them to justify it, but she made me wonder what the reviews were for the book on Amazon.
As of today, there are 5,795 reviews posted with the majority being 5 stars. Those who didn’t love the book often thought the teens were not realistic, and yet there were 5 star reviews written by teens. Obviously, not everyone loves the same thing. I once dated a man who ate only vanilla ice cream. Vanilla! When there are so many delicious flavors to try, why would anyone stick with vanilla? We didn’t argue over it, however, because there is no point in arguing over tastes, but I digress.
Many authors are so sensitive they cannot bear to read a poor review of their work. Should I receive one, I study it to learn why the reader didn’t enjoy the story. Many people leave lengthy, detailed reviews to categorize every aspect they found objectionable. Some comments are simply due to taste. Others are helpful if they point out something I should have caught, or could improve in later books. Perhaps I didn’t make motivations clear enough, or show why the heroine’s attitude toward the hero changed over time. Whatever the problem was, I give it a lot of thought and hope each of my books is better than the last. Thank you to all of you who take the time to write thoughtful reviews.
Do you buy books based on the reviews? Or will you buy a favorite author’s new book even if the reviews aren’t entirely positive? What if a friend recommends a book, but it has very few positive reviews? Do you write reviews?
My latest book, FIERCE PASSION is a November 5, 2013 release from Samhain Publishing. It’s the story of Ana Santilan, an haute couture model who has lost the great love of her life, a famed matador. She finds a new love, who comes with serious complications, and a stalker who wants her all to himself. With both passion and danger, it follows the Aragon family introduced in FIERCE LOVE, and FIERCE PRIDE.
I will be happy to give an ebook copy to someone who comments, and I hope you’ll want to write a review of FIERCE PASSION.
November 5, 2013
Sneak Peek at DANGEROUS LIAISON
November 11th is creeping up fast! The release of Uniform Desires is less than a week away! The boxed set will go on sale for only $.99 initially, so you might want to go ahead and pre-order it at that price. Just sayin’. This is an exciting collection, filled with military and ex-military heroes. Scroll down if you’d like a sample of the sexiness heading your way. 
I’d love to hear your thoughts and whether you’ve already ordered it. I’d also like to know whether men in uniform are one of your favorite fantasies! As well, we’ve started a Facebook page. Hit the link and go like the page to make sure you don’t miss the exciting things we have in store for you!
UNIFORM Desires
Six Military Romances
Infatuation by USA Today bestselling author Melissa Schroeder
To prove her love and save her man, she has to go above and beyond the call of duty
SEAL’s Honor by award-winning author Elle James
Two Navy SEALs jeopardize their lives and hearts in a battle-torn land when they vie for the love of one sexy Night Stalker helicopter pilot
SEAL the Deal by national bestselling author Sharon Hamilton
A SEAL’s nightmare of a promise given at his sister’s deathbed gives him the woman of his dreams
Dangerous Liaison by national bestselling author Delilah Devlin
A pampered travel agent escapes through the jungle with an undercover DEA agent when a drug lord mistakes her for a rival’s daughter
Her Forever Hero by bestselling author JM Madden
When the boss’s pregnant, unwed daughter needs rescuing, disabled Marine Grafton Parks proves he’s still a hero
Cinderella Liberty by NY Times & USA Today bestselling author Cat Johnson
A weekend liberty leads to unexpected passion between a Marine and his best friend’s sister, but he must survive seven months in Afghanistan to get back to her
The drone of the generator led her toward the dining hall, and she stood in the shadows outside, peering through the dusty windows for a glimpse of Angel.
She didn’t find him at any of the long tables and turned, determined to track down her quarry. Perhaps he’d opted for that beer. She backtracked to the barracks where the trainers slept and caught a glimpse of a familiar set of broad shoulders heading toward the isolated shower hut.
A smile stretched her lips at the naughty thoughts running through her mind. Keeping to the deepening shadows next to the cabins, she followed stealthily behind him.
Wearing only slacks with a towel hooked around his neck, a T-shirt wadded in his hand, his back was bare for her to ogle. The deep indention down the center was bordered by thick muscles. God, what might a man do with all that strength and power when focused on a woman’s pleasure?
She couldn’t wait to find out.
When the coiled spring hinges slammed the door behind him, she snuck up to it and flipped the wooden sign from “Men” to “Women.” Since only one other woman was in the camp, a mousy student in wire-rimmed glasses, she knew the chances were slim they’d be interrupted.
Inside the hut, a long wooden bench stretched along one side of the wall. His clothing sat on top of it in a neat, folded stack. She slipped off her boots and socks, tugged her tee over her head and sauntered toward the entrance of the second room, following the sound of running water.
A crumb of modesty had her keeping on the shorts, but she flicked open the button at the top and slid down the zipper halfway to bare her lower abdomen. Maybe he would think she really was there to shower, but had mistaken the sign outside.
One naked light bulb glared from the ceiling of the shower room, shedding just enough light for Maya to get an eyeful of the rugged perfection she’d lusted after since she’d arrived at ADR, Inc.’s Executive Security Training Camp.
His back was to her, his face lifted to the thin, gurgling spray. Ropes of suds slithered down his naked back and rock-hard buttocks. Fascinated, she watched the soap surge downward to his feet.
She must have sighed out loud, because his head swiveled, and he looked toward the closed door before spearing her with a sharp glance. “Forget your towel?” he asked, one dark brow rising.
The lie was on the tip of her tongue, ready to be blurted, but since she hadn’t raised her hands to shield her breasts from his view, she knew the pretense would seem silly. “Mind sharing?” she rasped, her throat suddenly tight.
Something dark and fierce glinted in his gaze. His jaw flexed once, and he looked away, swiping his hands over his face and hair before he slowly turned his body to face hers. His gaze was unreadable, his jaw presenting a taut, hard edge.
Not that she was intimidated for even a second. Her gaze slid hungrily down his lightly furred chest to his hewn abdomen and lower. His cock was pure, masculine perfection, rising slowly, slick and thickening between massive thighs.
Maya’s breath caught and she swallowed, stepping deeper into the room. She ignored the muscle clenching alongside his jaw and his continued silence. Until he said no, loud and clear, she’d take his silence as a yes. Her hands went straight to the waist of her shorts to push them down. When they dropped to the floor, she raised her gaze to his again and walked slowly toward him.
His gaze locked with hers for long moment, and she worried he might be trying to intimidate her into stopping by playing some sort of staring game, but then he blinked. Her heart stuttered then beat faster as his gaze swept her naked body, his expression hardening, his green eyes darkening. His chest rose around a deep breath, but he didn’t motion to her, didn’t make a move toward her.
She understood. She’d started this, so he’d leave what happened next all up to her. Maybe he worried she’d call foul later and lodge a sexual harassment complaint. Maybe he could tell that his continued resistance made her nervous, and he wanted to see how far he could push until she turned tail and ran.
When she stood within his reach, so close only an inch or two separated her trembling belly from his rising cock, she opened her mouth, but fell silent when she realized the only things her overheated mind could think to say would sound like begging.
When he did finally move, a hand rose from his side and his fingers trailed her cheek, pushing her damp hair behind her ear. “You’ve already showered,” he said, his voice a sexy, deep rumble.
“I was looking for you,” she admitted, feeling fine spray bounce off his body and hit her face.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
With a shake of her head, she gave a faint snort. “If I didn’t take the initiative, would you have?”
His fingers glided down her neck to the top of her breast, then stopped. His gaze lifted from the dewy skin to lock with hers. “You’re treading in dangerous waters.”
“It’s only a shower,” she whispered, blood pounding in her ears. “I’m not going to drown.”
“Baby girl, you have no clue.”
“Then show me.” She stepped closer, closing her eyes briefly as her belly at last felt the weight of his cock pressed against it.
His fingers spread, opening to cup her breast.
Maya thought she might die. The moment was too perfect. His hand warmed her while it gently massaged, clasping, rubbing, lifting. His thumb flicked her turgid nipple, and she gasped. Her belly vibrated against his cock.
He groaned, then cursed under his breath.
Not the reaction she’d expected. “Look, if I misread anything, I’ll go. I mean…if you don’t want me—”
Another short, harsh curse burst from him, but he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her snug against him. His face bent towards hers, his eyes squeezing tight. “This isn’t the time…the last thing I need…last place you should be.”
November 4, 2013
Teresa Noelle Roberts: Cougar’s Courage (Contest)
Thanks, Delilah, for letting me visit today and talk about my new book, Cougar’s Courage (Duals and Donovans: the Different, Book 3).
I love world-building. Long before I fell in love with romance novels, I was a fantasy reader, and I loved escaping my little central New York hometown by immersing myself in the lush, vivid exotic worlds of Middle Earth, Pern, Narnia, and more. And of course, since then I’ve become engrossed in many other imaginary worlds. In creating the paranormal Duals and Donovans: the Different series, I looked for inspiration not to the complex mythological realms of Tolkien and other epic fantasy but to the nearly real worlds of urban fantasy authors such as Jim Butcher and Patricia Briggs, worlds that might pass for ours…for a few pages, before the weirdness hits again.
I didn’t steal their worlds. But I did shamelessly adopt the notion that little touches of reality highlight the oddity of a dangerous world where magic is part of life and beings out of mythology might just end up either eating dinner with you or eating you for dinner.
Thus Cara, my heroine in Cougar’s Courage, starts out in the very real city of Toronto. She has a smart phone and isn’t thrilled when it doesn’t work in Couguar-Caché, the mysterious village where she ends up. (Turns out her cell phone coverage stops when she left this dimension. Important safety tip: check your contracts for this detail if you’re planning to plane-hop!) Jack is a shape-shifting cougar Dual who’s also a shaman—not exactly the guy next-door— but he attended Queens University, a very real place where my college roommate did her graduate work. The characters miss Tim Horton’s coffee because they can’t get it easily where they are. Cara’s grandfather is a magical powerhouse…who loves old school Saturday morning cartoons and flannel shirts.
But the real-life details, in the long run, don’t matter as much as real-life emotions. Cara and Jack may have powers most of us lack, and may spend a lot of time in an alternate dimension. But they’re people, if not exactly humans. The most important challenge was to keep their path from uneasy allies to a couple looking forward to Happily (and Crazily) Ever After believable.
I think I succeeded. I hope I also succeeded in making even the most bizarre residents of Couguar-Caché emotionally accessible. Even an ancient nature spirit can mourn a lost lover and regret a disastrous relationship with an evil ex. In this case the evil is on a scale beyond “ran up your credit cards and slept with your best friend” or even “beat you up.” More like “wants to destroy everything you hold dear including the land and has the power to do it.” But the pain of loss is universal, as is anger at being duped and regret for bad decisions that come back to haunt you years (or in this case centuries) later.
Let me know if I succeeded in making the bizarre believable!
Series blurb: Welcome to an America where the non-human Different and magically gifted humans live among ordinary people. Witches are both feared and honored, but shape-shifting Duals are treated as second-class citizens. The Agency, a government agency that’s supposed to monitor illegal uses of magic and Different abilities, has developed its own dangerous agenda. But when Duals and witches join forces, the Agency and other bad guys aren’t going to know what hit them.
And neither are the witches and Duals. Witch magic grows from the positive energy of love and sex–and the only thing better than one Dual is two of them! And then there are shamans, who work their chaotic magic to comfort the afflicted and shake up the comfortable. Once shamans get involved, everything gets weirder…and sexier.
Blurb: Toronto cop Cara Many-Winters Mackenzie is still reeling from her fiancé’s murder when her orderly life takes a turn toward the weird, complete with voices in her head and phantom bleeding wounds.
This violent awakening is the rise of her Different gift—a chaotic, Bugs-Bunny-on-crack magic that she must learn to control before it destroys her. There’s only one place to get help: her mother’s ancestral village, and a mentor who seems to have stepped straight out of the smoke of her erotic dreams.
Cougar Dual Jack Long-Claw reluctantly agrees to take Cara under his wing, though he’d much rather take the beautiful city girl into his bed. As he guides her through a crash course in shamanic magic, sparks fly—some sexy, some snarky. But when an ancient enemy attacks the village, they must work together to hone a magical weapon against certain destruction.
Common sense tells them it’s a terrible time to fall in love. Their spirit guides have other ideas. And shamans who don’t listen to their spirit guides are dead shamans…
Warning: Hot shape-shifting feline hero. Strong but shell-shocked heroine. Snarky, meddling spirit guides. And lots and lots of sex: angry sex, crazy sex, magical sex, and just plain sexy sex.
Like the sound of this? I’m running a contest on my own website for a chance to win this book and the first book in the series, Lions’ Pride. Commenting here or at my site enters you. Comment here and there, get two entries.
November 3, 2013
Rachel Kramer Bussel: The Big Book of Orgasms
Why are there 69 stories in The Big Book of Orgasms? Well, the first reason is the most obvious, an allusion to the sex position 69. But for me as editor, it’s much deeper than that. The thing I hate most about editing anthologies, which makes me consider quitting every time, is sending rejection letters. I despise it, because I know what it’s like to get them. It’s no fun not to be able to include stories that are wonderfully written but I don’t have room for, or that are too similar to another story.
With The Big Book of Orgasms (and its predecessor, Gotta Have It: 69 Stories of Sudden Sex), I had more room to include a wider variety of stories than I normally do. I could include masturbation stories like Tess Danesi’s excellent “Steamy” (read an excerpt HERE and Logan Zachary’s technology and gender-bending tale “Remote Control.” I had space for very short stories, such as “The Park” by Elise Hepner, which is only 249 words, and “Her Lover is a Flame” by Cecilia Tan, which has only 308. It’s pretty amazing to realize how few words an author needs to tell a story that’s erotic and evocative and memorable. All of the stories are only 1,200 words or less, which means you always have time to read one before bed.
It also means there’s room for diversity in terms of gender and sexual orientation. There are more male authors than I usually get in my submissions, many of whom, such as David Salcido of Blue Food fame, I’m publishing for the first time in one of my books (side note: I’d love to see more submissions for future anthologies from male authors and authors of any or no gender!). Check out “Baxter’s Boy” by Xan West (who is reading November 6th in San Francisco, see last paragraph) for a wonderful take on gender and desire.
I’m not saying The Big Book of Orgasms has every single type of orgasm a person could possibly have or way of achieving one, because that would be impossible for one book (I think?), but it does have a wide variety, and if it does well, I’d love to do another book like it. I love the creativity and playfulness and passion the authors brought to the stories. Some, like Lady Cheeky, who wrote “The Massage,” have even publicly admitted their stories are true (mine, “I’m on Fire,” is not, though hot wax play does intrigue me). There was room for stories ranging from romantic and sensual to down and dirty (and stories that combine those elements!).
There’s lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and heterosexual characters. There’s sex toys aplenty, book lovers, forced orgasms, cross-dressing, bondage, spanking, students and teachers, sex as a headache cure, BDSM, flogging, exhibitionism, voyeurism, ice play, movie theater orgasms, a very tight pair of jeans and so much more. There are easily orgasmic characters and ones for whom orgasm is more of a challenge. And even though orgasm is the organizing principle, these stories are truly about the passion shared by these characters, for their lovers and themselves.
The book is also, if I may brag not humbly at all, a beautiful one. I’m always in awe of the gorgeous covers Cleis Press finds, but I think this one is especially lovely—not too over the top, but gets the point across that this woman is either about to have an orgasm, in the middle of having one or has just finished having one. If you happen to be in San Francisco, please join me and 9 of the contributors for a free reading this Wednesday, November 6tha t 6:30 at Good Vibrations, 1620 Polk Street at California; details are on Facebook but no RSVP is necessary. If you’re not nearby, please tell someone who is. There will also be a New York City reading January 3rd at reading series Between the Covers at The Museum of Sex. You can keep up with the book on Tumblr, where you’ll find excerpts from all 69 stories and the table of contents and intro and @BigBookofOrgasm on Twitter, and me @raquelita on Twitter. And if you do read the book, I’d love to hear what your favorites are!
