Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 495

Guest Blogger: Sheri Whitefeather (Contest!)

Contest from Sheri Whitefeather!  Leave a comment for a chance to win

a free download of THE VAMPIRE PENDANT e-book and a Gothic cross keychain

to ward off vampires (or simply keep them under control, if you prefer. )

Two winners will be chosen at random.

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FIRST TIMES. . .

Thank you, Delilah, for having me as a guest blogger.  I’m thrilled to be here and have to say how much I love your clever tag-line (Get in Bed with Delilah.  Everyone else has!).   I’m sure you hear that all the time, but it always makes me smile.

I’m celebrating the release of my 40th book, but it’s also my first self-published project, as well as my first vampire-themed story.  Lots of firsts!  So, that’s my subject for the day.  Other firsts that all of us can share.   Ready.  Set.   Here’s mine.

First childhood memory:  I was two years old, and I was with my sister, Lanie, and Nonna (our-great grandmother from Italy).   I was chewing gum and I took it out of my mouth and tucked it into the dirt of a nearby potted plant.  I then laughed my fool head off, thinking it was the funniest thing ever.

First crush:  It was kindergarten and his name was Bruce.  I don’t remember anything else about him.  My first celebrity crushes:  Herman (Peter Noone) from Herman’s Hermits and Monkee Davy Jones (may he rest in cutie-pie peace).

First car I ever drove:  A 1969 Firebird convertible.   Fun!

First movie that made me cry:  Bambi

First song that made me swoon:  I think we’re alone now by Tommy James & the Shondells.   I was about nine years old when it came out (way before Tiffany’s version) and I imagined myself running off with a boy when I got older, much like in the lyrics.

First time I had sex (yikes!):  I was a teenager and his name was Dean.  And, yes, I remember more about him than I do about kindergarten Bruce!

First mentor:  This would be my theater make-up instructor in college.  He boosted my confidence and made me feel smart and savvy and creative.  My other mentors would be the throng of teachers who told me that I should be a writer.   I was quite young during those experiences and didn’t understand that they were mentoring me because I didn’t want to be a writer then.  The writing bug didn’t hit until I was in my thirties.

First muse:   A man known to my readers as the Online Warrior.   He is a romantic friend (yum!) and an artist and art model.   In fact, I keep one of his modeling nudes beside my computer.  Other people have inspired me, but not the way he does.  If you’re curious to see him, here’s a link    http://cheriefeather.blogspot.com/2011/11/online-warrior.html  where I posted his naked image.  You’ll also see that I plan to write a series of books he inspired.

First books I raved about:  When I was a kid, it was WYKNEN, BYNKEN AND NOD.  In my teenage years, it was two classics–THE SCARLET LETTER and TARZAN OF THE APES.  In my twenties, THE OTHER SIDE OF MIDNIGHT by Sidney Shelton, CLAN OF THE CAVE BEAR by Jean M.  Auel,  and RICH MAN POOR MAN by Irwin Shaw.   In my thirties, A KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR by Jude Deveraux .  In my forties, Kathleen Eagle’s FIRE AND RAIN and Lucia St. Clair Robson’s heart-torturing epic RIDE THE WIND.  And, finally, in my fifties, it would be Suzanne Collins’s HUNGER GAMES trilogy.

Now onto my current release:

THE VAMPIRE PENDANT is the first book in the Blood Genies series,  erotic romance novellas featuring vampire hybrids (genies/vampires) living inside antique jewelry and taking blood in exchange for granting wishes.

As a teenager, Tessa Clarins was damaged by a fire, and now the scarred twenty-five-year-old virgin has been made beautiful by a wish.   But there’s a catch.  Tessa’s wish is only temporary, and so is her affair with Anthony Dumont, the wildly romantic “gen-vamp” feasting on her veins and stealing her innocence.  Night after night Tessa puts her heart on the line.  But so does Anthony, leaving sex, love, and secrets in his blood-hungry wake.

Purchase at Amazon

Purchase at Barnes and Noble

Happy wishes, everyone!

www.sheriwhiteather.com

A Winner…and a New Contest!

It’s morning, and I just caught myself in mid-yawn. Yesterday was cram-jam-packed with work. Today will be more of the same. I’m determined to get a couple of things off my humongous list this week! So no time for a lot of chit-chat. Here goes.

Out with the old, in with the new.

The winner (by random number generator) of The Glass Art Pendant Contest is…Rana Adams! Congratulations, Rana! Be sure to send me an email with your snail mail address so I can get this into the mail for you!

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The Two Book “Two-fer” Contest

What can you win?

The following two books. Click on the covers to read more about them.

How can you win them?

Post a comment on any blog posting from today until the contest ends. Each entry counts as another chance to win!

This contest ends in one week, May 22nd!!

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To start the conversation, here’s a question…

Is public nudity beautiful or inappropriate?

Reminder: Call for Submissions — SMOKIN’ HOT FIREMEN

Just a reminder! The deadline for submissions is a month away! Please pass this along to all your writer friends out there! ~DD

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Smokin’ Hot Firemen: Firefighter Romance Stories

Editor: Delilah Devlin

Publisher: Cleis Press in Summer 2013

Deadline: June 15, 2012 (although sooner is better!)

Smokin’ Hot Firemen is open to all authors.

Editor Delilah Devlin is looking for hetero firefighter stories for a romantic erotica anthology tentatively entitled Smokin’ Hot Firemen: Firefighter Romance Stories.

A firefighter is one of those iconic heroes who inspire a jumble of sexy images at just the mention of the word—a soot-covered face, sweat dripping from hard, chiselled muscles, the sexy snap of suspenders—yes, only a fireman can make suspenders sexy!

Smokin’ Hot Firemen will seek stories that satisfy the reader who craves the romantic idea of that soot-covered, smokin’-hot man while exploring stories set in American cities and small towns, as well as international settings. The stories will be contemporary. While traditional themes are likely to be featured, writers are encouraged to imagine greater in order to create tales that, while featuring this iconic hero, may also surprise.

Think about the big-city firehouse, teaming with sexy firemen, responding to a high-rise fire; firefighters arriving at the scene of an accident to pry a victim from a burning car; a strong, sexy man carrying a child from a burning house… All heroic acts we expect from our local heroes. Then think about the smoke-jumper parachuting into the hot zone of a forest fire; the sexy rancher next door, who’s also a volunteer firefighter, responding to an out-of-control brush fire; or even an oil-rig worker whose extra duty is to respond to a catastrophe on a rig in the middle of the ocean…

Then imagine the romantic possibilities of being held against that massively muscled chest by a man whose mission is to protect and serve…

Published authors with an established firehouse world may use that setting for their original short story.

The stories may be as kinky or vanilla as the writer wants—but a deep sensuality should linger in every word. Exotic locations and scenarios are welcome. Keep in mind there must be a romantic element with a happy-for-now or happy-ever-after ending. Strong plots, engaging characters and unique twists are the ultimate goal. Please no reprints. We are seeking original stories.

How to submit: Prepare your 1,500 to 4,500 words story in a double-spaced, Arial, 12 point, black font document with pages numbered (.doc, NOT.docx) OR rich text format. Indent the first line of each paragraph half an inch and double space (regular double spacing, do not add extra lines between paragraphs or do any other irregular spacing). US grammar (double quotation marks around dialogue, etc.) is required.

In your document at the top left of the page, include your legal name (and pseudonym if applicable), mailing address, and 50 words or less bio in the third person to smokinhotfiremen@gmail.com. If you are using a pseudonym, please provide your real name and pseudonym and make it clear which one you’d like to be credited as. Authors may submit up to 2 stories. Delilah will respond in September 2011. The publisher has final approval over the stories included in the manuscript.

Payment will be $50.00 USD and two copies of the published book upon publication.

About the editor: Ms. Devlin has published over a hundred erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths. Her published print titles include Into the Darkness, Seduced by Darkness, Darkness Burning, Darkness Captured, Down in Texas, Texas Men, Ravished by a Viking, and Enslaved by a Viking. Her short stories are featured in Zane’s Purple Panties, and Cleis Press’s Lesbian Cowboys, Girl Crush, Fairy Tale Lust, Lesbian Lust, Passion, Carnal Machines, Dream Lovers, and Best Erotic Romance. She is published by Avon, Kensington, Harlequin, Atria/Strebor, Ellora’s Cave, Samhain Publishing, and Berkley. In Fall 2011, she debuted her first anthology with Cleis Press, Girls Who Bite. In 2012, Cleis Press will release She Shifters and Cowboy Lust.

Direct any questions you have regarding your story or the submission process to Delilah at smokinhotfiremen@gmail.com.

Guest Blogger: Suleikha Snyder (Contest)

Thanks so much, Delilah, for having me as a guest! And, don’t worry, I came alone — I didn’t bring my voices! Many authors talk about how their characters “speak” to them, and there’s frequently that teasing back-and-forth argument you have with a scene you’re currently writing: “Stop that. I’m in charge. Go sit in the corner.” I’ve certainly felt that way on more than one occasion. But I also have other voices: when I’m reading aloud!

Recently, I engaged in my first-ever public appearances as an author — reading from my debut Samhain novella, Spice and Smoke. Set completely in India and featuring an all-Indian cast of characters, it’s hardly text that matches my high-pitched, Valley Girl-Betty Boop patter. Let’s face it: I’m a tiny little Indian-American chick who cusses like a longshoreman. Bollywood hero or heroine, I’m not! But my third person narration, at least in my head, is that of a warm, husky, Indian accent…and the voices of my leads — from Avinash Kumar’s rough rumble to Michael Gill’s more casual mix of British and Indian — are distinct as well.

So, when I got up to the microphone, first at NYC’s Happy Ending lounge for Ravenous Nights (ravenous.journurl.com), and then at Madame X for Lady Jane’s Salon, I read in accents. Yup, I did voices. And, I’ll be frank, you never know if you’re going to sink or swim until you’re in the middle of it, praying people are engaged or laughing or fanning themselves. My dialogue, fortunately, offers a lot of cues. Many multilingual Indians effortlessly blend their languages, throwing a little Hindi into their English and vice versa — and I utilized that in my writing. When you’re dropping in a “yaar” (pal/buddy, sort of operates like “dude”), or a “na?” (no, used like a Canadian “eh?”), it really helps enrich what you’re sharing with an audience. It forced me to inhabit the bodies of these tall, handsome, desi boys…who wouldn’t know a Valley Girl if she walked up and kissed them full on the mouth!

To join the conversation, check out Spice and Smoke; it’s available at all major e-tailers, as well as the Samhain Publishing store.

Leave a comment on this post, and one lucky winner

 will snag a copy in the format of her choice!

Editor, writer, American desi and lifelong geek, Suleikha Snyder published her first romantic short in Ravenous Romance’s 2011 TOUCHDOWNS anthology. 2012 brought a bevy of releases, including Suleikha’s first novella from Samhain Publishing, SPICE AND SMOKE, a Wild Rose Press short story called HEART MURMURS, and a short in Cleis Press’ SUITE ENCOUNTERS. Suleikha lives in New York City, finding inspiration in Bollywood films, daytime and primetime soaps, and Hell’s Kitchen wine bars.

Snippet Saturday: Shame, Shame, Shame

Sometimes, heroes and heroines don’t behave well. In the last story I wrote for Kensington, “Hot Blooded”, both hero and heroine have some baggage to turn loose. You can get a sense of how the heroine’s mistake is eating at the hero in this scene. Enjoy!

Tough and rough, tall and dark, these are men a woman never forgets. Experience pleasure like no other in the arms of a cowboy…

“Hot Blooded” by Delilah Devlin

Rancher Adam Youngblood is always happy to help a damsel in distress. But before he’ll pull the sweetly curvaceous and fiercely independent Cass McIntyre to safety, he demands promises of unconditional sexual surrender…

Sunlight broke through the clouds by mid-afternoon. Although the rain had stopped an hour before, chaos still reigned in the park as the rivers continued to rise. All the low water crossings were impassible. Climbers and hikers all along the trails had been stranded. When the Canyon Volunteer Fire Department called the ranch, Adam Youngblood bit back a curse.

The last place he wanted to be today was anywhere near the park and one particular little park ranger. But he headed straight for the headquarters building near the entrance of the park where the rangers had organized search parties to rescue stranded campers and hikers.

Mavis Benson who manned the information desk sidled close to him with a clipboard in her hands. “Adam,” she said hesitantly.

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

“We have a situation.”

He glanced at the organized chaos around him and nodded his head. “We certainly do.”

She pulled at his shirtsleeve and tilted her clipboard toward him. “Cass—Fortress Cliff—0800” was scribbled in purple ink. “She hasn’t checked back in.”

Adam didn’t want to care. In fact, he hated the way his belly knotted at that piece of news. “Have you sent anyone to check it out?”

“They’re still assigning teams to sections of the park. Thought you might like to take this one yourself,” she whispered, her eyebrows rising.

Adam grimaced, tempted to tell her flat out she had the wrong man for the job. She didn’t know his interest in Cass McIntyre had been obliterated the night before.

However, he didn’t want to tarnish the trust and respect shining in Mavis’s eyes whenever he entered the building. Mavis was a lifelong resident of the nearby town of Canyon and attended the same church his mother had.

Adam blew out a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll take a look around the cliff.”

She beamed and handed him the note. “If she’s not in any trouble, she’s not gonna be happy I sent someone out to check on her.”

“Woman’s too independent for her own good,” he muttered, settling his cowboy hat on his head.

“It’s what happens when a woman fends too long for herself,” she said with a firm nod. And she should know. The elderly spinster had lived alone for as long as he he’d known her, which was all his life.

Forty-five minutes later after getting his wheels bogged down in mud twice, he made it to the summit and drove slowly along the rim of the bluff. Just as he’d decided he’d have to park and continue the search on foot, a scrap of white gleaming against the dark green branches of a juniper tree caught his eye.

The closer he drew, the item took shape—two distinctive shapes. He his brakes, put the truck in park, and cut the engine.

Adam almost smiled at the thought of Cass resorting to flashing her underwear. But his amusement lasted only a second because he realized things must be grim if she’d signaled for help.

He picked up his radio from the seat beside him and called in his location before stepping out of his vehicle making his way to the cliff’s edge to peer over the side.

His heart skipped a beat when he spotted the top of a blonde head, hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Cass sat on a narrow outcropping of rock with her back against the wall and her slim legs dangling in the air.

He drew a deep breath to calm his heart, then satisfied she wasn’t in any imminent danger, he scanned the eroded ledge, the last twenty or so feet of rock to the cliff’s edge, and the thick trunk of the tree clinging to that edge.

His boot crunched in grit as he leaned farther over the rim, sending a spray of pea-sized gravel downward. “Watch out, below,” he called.

Cass jerked her head back, and then turned her face upward. A scowl darkened her features. “Damn. Didn’t think my bad luck could get any worse.”

“Yeah, well I’m all you’ve got. Sit tight until I get back.”

“Like I’m going anywhere?”

Adam shook his head. The woman didn’t possess a lick o’ sense bitching with her rescuer. Hell, she had no business climbing on her own in the first place—or hopping into his brother’s arms.

He squelched that last thought. No use getting riled up again when he had work to do. If she fell, everyone would think he’d dropped her on purpose.

He backed his vehicle up to a spot directly above her position and grabbed a rope, tied it around his trailer hitch, and then fed the coil through his hand, grasping the prusik knot as he approached the edge again.

Bracing his feet against an exposed root of the juniper tree, he wound the rope around the trunk then lowered the end toward her.

Cass reached up for the rope he dangled above her. “Give me some more.”

Adam gave her another few inches, but as she raised her hand to grab it, he pulled it up just out of reach.

Her head tilted until her green gaze met his.

Adam felt a fierce satisfaction that he had her undivided attention.

Her slender brows drew together in a frown. Her lips pouted. “This is not the time to play games with me, Adam. Get me off this goddamn ledge.”

“I’d think a woman in your position would be grateful for a little help, not cussin’ at it.”

Thunder clapped from the southern rim of the canyon drawing both their gazes.

“We don’t have time for this,” Cass called out. “Send down that rope.”

She was right, but something twisted inside Adam. Seeing her so vulnerable sent an edgy thrill through his body. “Say you’re sorry, first.”

Her head tilted again. This time confusion and maybe a hint of regret darkened her gaze. “For what? Getting stuck here? Am I inconveniencing you?”

“Wrong response.”

She faced the canyon again, and her shoulders slumped. “You didn’t want to hear any excuses last night. Why should I think you want to hear an apology from me now?”

“Maybe I’m just curious to see if you know how.”

The wind whipped up, tearing at the brim of his hat. They really didn’t have time for this.

“I’m sorry,” she called out, her tone defiant. “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, but I’m not feeling it.”

“Look, get me off this rock. Then take your pound of flesh.”

“Any way I want it?”

There was a long pause, and she peered up again, her scowl screwing up her features. “Any way you want it,” she gritted out.

Adam felt a grim smile stretch his lips. Too bad he didn’t have any intention of acting on her promise. Taking out his anger on her body would make for a sweet revenge.

He dropped the coiled rope again, letting the end dangle in front of her, then fed her more as she tugged it down to attach to her harness. “You’re going to have to climb, but I’ll take up the slack.”

He backed away from the cliff’s edge and grasped the rope in front of the tree. Then he pulled until he felt tension on the line, taking up the slack as Cass made her way slowly up the side, not letting up until she hauled herself over the edge and collapsed face first in the mud.

Adam dropped the rope and strode over to her, leaning down to hold out his hand. Her head raised, mud on her chin and one cheek, her gaze going to his face then dropping to his hand.

She wiped her own against her shorts, and then slid her fingers along his palm, accepting his tug as he hauled her to her feet.

They stood chest-to-chest, and then she wobbled. Adam clutched her waist and drew her closer, widening his stance so he could feel her taut belly press against his groin.

His cock stirred, something he couldn’t hide when there wasn’t an inch of space between them.

Just as she couldn’t hide the twin points stabbing at his chest.

Her head bowed, but slowly her hands glided up his arms to clutch his shoulders. “This going to be your pound?” she asked, her voice softly muffled.

“I’m still thinking on what I want in trade,” he said, forcing his to remain even, his tone cold.

She lifted her head, her chin tilting upward in defiance. “What if I don’t like what you come up with? I agreed to your bargain under duress. It doesn’t count.”

Adam narrowed his gaze. “We’re a long way from civilization. Not too smart, saying things like that to me when I’m still mad as hell.”

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Be sure to check out the snippets on these other authors’ blogs:

Megan Hart:Read in bed!

Rhian Cahill

Eliza Gayle

Jody Wallace

Mandy M Roth

Lissa Matthews

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Taige Crenshaw

HelenKay Dimon

Shiloh Walker>

TJ Michaels

Lauren Dane

Guest Blogger: Rachel Kramer Bussel

Why Hotel Sex Is Hot

I love hotels, and I love hotel sex! That’s why I edited Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories and the new anthology Suite Encounters: Hotel Sex Stories. To me one of the greatest things about a hotel is one of the most obvious: it’s not your home. Probably you’ve never been there before. There are all sorts of things to explore and examine and indulge in. I took a staycation with my boyfriend earlier this year at the Gansevoort Park Hotel, and it was fabulous because we ate dinner at the delicious restaurant Asellina downstairs and never even had to go outside. The bathtub made me want to move into it, it was so deep and luxurious. But I don’t think you have to stay at a fancy hotel to partake of good hotel sex (and that includes solo sex). Just the mere act of getting away can shake you up, just like how I sometimes go to a new location to write for a change of scenery. Those two things collided when I was in Milwaukee for business and stayed at the beautiful Intercontinental (if you are ever in Milwaukee, I highly recommend it!). I wound up eating dinner at the hotel bar and a sleazy guy started hitting on me, with the genius line, “You must be very smart” because I was, wait for it…reading a book (a galley of love and cooking memoir Apron Anxiety by Alyssa Shelasky, which I also recommend). He was a loser and made me wish I’d opted for room service, but I wound up turning that incident into the basis for a story!

I regularly schedule hotel dates because even when you don’t have time to travel, they are a way to get away from it all. The last hotel I stayed at was The Benjamin, and I made sure to take advantage of their pillow menu, though I couldn’t help laughing hysterically when I got to the “snore no more” pillow. One tip that I could have used: if you bring sex toys with you, make sure they’re all present and accounted for before you leave. I wound up leaving my riding crop there and was too embarrassed to call and ask if they had it!

In Suite Encounters: Hotel Sex Stories, my new anthology out this month, there are sex workers, staycations, a mermaid, a murder mystery weekend, bondage (at the holiday inn!) and much more. I think Suite Encounters, like its predecessor Do Not Disturb, showcases a range of the ways people use hotels to get off. My story, “Special Request,” is one of the more outrageous, less realistic stories in the book. It’s an over-the-top fantasy inspired by a stay at the Westin in Los Angeles where they would have brought a treadmill or exercise bike to my room, and seemed to imply they could get a customer anything their heart desired. In my story, that actually happens. Here’s a snippet:

“So I booked this room because I’d heard from a friend that you will do anything to fulfill your clients’ wishes. I’ve been unable to find anyone who could meet my exact specifications, but you look like you’ll know where to find what I need. And my wish is for, well, an orgy. Tomorrow night. I want a room full of hot men and women to pleasure me and each other. Not professionals, just regular sexy people looking to have a good time. And I want you to join us. That’s a must. As a guest, off the clock. Confidentially of course—I must make sure not a word of this gets out,” Claudine finished with a Cheshire cat–like smile.

I’d just finished telling her I could get her anything she wanted, so I couldn’t refuse—not if I wanted to keep my job, not to mention my pride. Instead, I just stared at her, agog. I’d brought in ladies of the night, fetish specialists, pro subs and dominatrices. I’d had people ask me to personally pour them baths full of champagne, and I’d even sipped a little as a recent Oscar winner had extended his gorgeous body into his suite’s sumptuous tub while I’d popped cork after cork until he was fully submerged. He’d asked me to join him and while I was very, very tempted, I declined save for the luxury of pouring the chilled bubbly over his shoulders, then splashing the last few drops onto his face and indulging in one of the hottest kisses of my life. I was pretty sure he had a cell phone full of numbers of women who’d be more than willing to slip into his tub, so I’d left him to them.

I did, in fact, have the numbers of plenty of escorts and dominatrices handy, friends who specialized in high-end clients who I trusted implicitly for their discretion and ability to do their job well. But Claudine wanted real people, not professionals—except for, well, me. She wanted people who weren’t acting like they wanted to share her bed, but who would be overjoyed to worship her leopard-print heels, not to mention the rest of her. I could tell that she wasn’t so much a voyeur or exhibitionist as used to being the centerpiece of any encounter, erotic or otherwise; she’d never be so crass as to say “gang bang” but she wasn’t going to be satisfied unless all those hands and mouths were focused on her at some point in the night. I wasn’t sure if I was doing my job or relegating my duties when an image of Claudine with men nibbling on her toes and a woman buried between her legs flashed in my mind.

“Now, if we understand each other, I’m going to slip into a bath. I need to soak my feet.” Claudine smiled at me, her glistening red lips curving upward, her brown eyes dancing over my surprised face. She unbuttoned her blouse and dropped it on the bed, then casually reached behind her to unhook her bra, letting her large, clearly natural breasts hang heavily against her, before pausing to finish her instructions.

“I’d love a couple, and maybe some college kids, a girl with some tattoos, a man with a huge cock. A boy I can tie up. With you as my dessert,” Claudine added with a laugh before stepping toward me, placing her hand at the back of my head, and giving me a full, passionate kiss, as if that were something she were used to doing with her minions. Her mouth tasted minty and sweet, and her tongue was as possessive as the rest of her. It was the kind of kiss I was used to from men, not women. Her breasts pressed against me, begging me touch them. I was still in shock, but my pussy clearly wasn’t, because it responded to her touch, to her tongue darting against mine. She pulled away, then slithered out of her jeans and panties, before waving good-bye and sliding into the bathroom, where the sound of rushing water greeted me. I rubbed at my lips, hoping to remove the lipstick as quickly as I could.

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You can read my introduction and watch the sexy trailer I filmed for Do Not Disturb at a New York City hotel at http://hoteleroticabook.com/. Also, if you order Suite Encounters (or pre-order the ebook) by May 15th from any source, you’re eligible to enter my contest to win a $250 Four Seasons gift card and enjoy a hotel stay of your own! Details at http://lustylady.blogspot.com/2012/04/contest-win-250-four-seasons-gift-card.html

A Quick Fly-By

I’m heading deep into the Ozark Mountains tomorrow for a writer’s retreat. I have tons to get off my desk today. So this will be quick!

First, yesterday’s winner of Ily Goyanes’s POWER PLAYS is Robyn Evans! Woot! Robyn, be sure to email Ily at ily.goyanes@ampersandeditions.com!

Also while I’m gone, I’ll have blogs pre-posted, so be sure to stop in. Remember, you still have plenty of opportunities to win that pretty pendant I’ll give away next Tuesday! I’ll have Wi-Fi at the lodge, so I can stay in touch. No problems there. I hope. I live in the boonies and satellite connection is often iffy here. This will be deep in the piney woods…

I’m almost at the end of the next Delta Heat book. Want to know the title? I don’t think I’ve shared it here. Well, it’s Fournicopia. Does that give you a hint of the delights inside this story? Yeah, you got it. Those of you who have heard me griping about the fact the story’s all sex know now that it’s living up (or is it down?) to its title.

Guest Blogger: Ily Goyanes (Contest)

Details of the giveaway are listed at the bottom of this post! Enjoy!~DD

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Before I start talking about sex, I’d like to thank Delilah for having me as a guest. I am proud (ecstatic, giddy even) to have her story, “Playing the Field,” as part of the lineup for my editorial debut, Girls Who Score: Hot Lesbian Erotica.

And now…let’s talk about sex, baby…

I always tell my friends (or strangers who have the gumption to ask about my sexuality) that I have a straight man, a lesbian, two bisexuals, a heterosexual chick, and a gay dude all living inside me—and they all get equal amounts of playtime.

My writing is proof that art imitates life. Even in the most fantastical stories, there are nuggets of truth about the writer. My stories include all of the aforementioned sexual orientations. Sometimes they include sweet, romantic and silly sex. Sometimes bondage, spanking and humiliation. Role play, cuckolding, strap-on play, exhibitionism, threesomes—almost everything is fair game—because in my bedroom it is (or has been in the past). If I’ve written about it, you can pretty much bet I’ve done it or had it done to me.

My sexual eccentricities are probably best captured in Power Plays, my latest release. It’s a ‘thrillogy’ – a collection of three stories. And although these particular stories all include some type of power exchange, they capture my unconventional sexual appetite pretty accurately.

There are two couples, a threesome, a one night stand with potential, some girl on girl action, some man on man mingling, a threesome, a spanking party, bondage, and oh so much more. All of this in three stories? Yes—because that’s how I roll in my everyday life.

I like authenticity in erotica –whether it’s steampunk, fantasy, paranormal, or contemporary—the characters should be people that you can imagine meeting in real life. The dialogue should ring true—as should the motivations and desires of the characters. I don’t care if the MC is a vampire or a nymph—their personality should be real.

And so, maybe I’m divulging a bit too much (I tend to be too honest), but Power Plays best represents me in that it encapsulates the party that is my pants.

This is an excerpt from “Fun & Games,” one of the stories in Power Plays. I hope you like reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

The leather belt lands on my bare ass with a loud smacking sound. I bite down hard on the towel for a second, preparing for the next blow. Twenty, thirty, hell, even forty or fifty blows could connect with my flesh without arousing the slightest reaction from me, but this is a spanking party and my ass is a rental. You know how people treat rentals, right? Let’s just say my ass had already been ridden for way over two hundred miles.

I had lost count of the spankings around that number and I know that was at least ninety minutes ago. My ass is costing the host two hundred and fifty dollars an hour of which I got to keep two hundred. My agent/manager/boyfriend keeps the remaining fifty.

Jacob just invests the money right back into my career, so he isn’t really making any money off of my talent. What with marketing and advertising, membership fees for several professional agencies and the almost thousand dollars or so a month that I spend on my hair, nails, facials, waxing and teeth whitening, I was very glad that he had kept his day job as a high-priced criminal attorney.

We don’t need the money—that’s the thing. I was bent over a wooden stool in some real estate agent’s kitchen having my ass beaten by a roster of about twenty or so guys, just for shits and giggles.

***

When I get home, by limo mind you—that’s part of the deal—Jacob is in bed with an open book on his lap and an open bottle of red wine on the night stand. He looks up and over his reading glasses and smiles, his dark green eyes shining. I take in his lean, muscular, shirtless body and squeeze my legs together.

“Hi honey,” he says, his deep voice causing a shiver to travel hurriedly down my spine–all the way to my cherry red ass. He casually runs his hands through his chestnut colored hair as if I had just gotten home from picking up some milk and bread from the grocery store.

I crawl into to the bed next to him; take the book out of his lap, and rest my head on his crotch. “Hi baby,” I purr, snuggling up against him and inhaling his soapy scent.

I feel his long, lean fingers running through my hair and I shut my eyes, enjoying the moment. Jacob knows I need about two minutes of quiet whenever I get home from being rented out. Just one hundred and twenty seconds of silence to bask in the liberating feeling of having been someone’s ‘entertainment.’

I think about all the men who had waited in line just to have a turn with me. I remember all the men who had offered me money—a lot of it—to take the action a little further, raise the stakes a little higher, to let them fuck me.

I can feel my pussy contracting and I know I am soaked. My pussy has been aching for attention since the first blow landed on my ass about three hours ago. I need to fuck.

Jacob senses the shift in my mood and lifts my head, arranging our bodies so that we are lying next to each other, the length of our bodies parallel, our faces almost touching. I close my eyes again and breathe him in.

“Minty fresh,” I whisper into his ear, undoing my corset and pulling it off my dulce de leche colored shoulders.

Jacob just nods and reaches down with his powerful hands to my black panties, which he then pulls down over my wide hips, finally removing them completely.

“Are you wet?” he asks in a low voice, eager to hear about my adventure, excited to listen to tales of other men, many men, disciplining his girl.

I feel his cock against my thigh and it is solid. All nine glorious inches are poking into my pliant flesh. For a second it occurs to me that Jacob’s magnificent cock is also his microphone, a listening device ready and able to record my performance.

He sees my smile and searches my dark brown eyes. “What’s so funny, linda?” he asks.

I love when he speaks in my native tongue. His endearing, more-American-than-apple-pie accent makes the familiar words sound fresh to me.

“Nada,” I reply and kiss his neck, tracing that one sweet vein with my tongue, knowing that I have his undivided attention.

His body trembles as if he just saw a ghost—or came—or tasted the most delicious ice cream in the universe. I reach down and cup his heavy nuts, rolling them gently in my hand, massaging and caressing the most quintessential feature of my boyfriend’s masculinity.

He groans softly, reaching for my breasts, grabbing them, kneading them in his large hands. A moan escapes my pouty, painted red lips and I tug sharply—just once—on his balls.

He shivers. “Did you like it?” he asks, his voice thick, and I can already tell that he is right there with me, heady, lost, gone.

“Yes,” I breathe into his ear, wrapping my hand around his fat prick and stroking it ever-so-slowly. “There were over twenty of them. Real estate broker-bank manager types, in chinos and polos. They started out with their hands, but that only lasted for a short while before one of them took off his belt.”

I watch Jacob’s face closely. This part turns us on so much. His eyes are closed as he pictures me bent over, my ass exposed for all those horny men, men who would never, could never, touch me the way that my man does.

* * * * *

I’d love to give away a free copy of Power Plays to one of Delilah’s readers. Leave a comment and a winner will be chosen randomly.

Power Plays on Amazon 

A bit of a wander, then a question…

Psst! Don’t forget about The Glass Art Pendant Contest! Follow the link for details!

It ends next Tuesday!

* * * * *

Elle is in Chicago, I think, but I’ll send her a message to see how she wants to select her winner. When I know, I’ll post the name at the top of yesterday’s blog. So check back!

Lord, I’m tired. I’ve been writing like a demoness. You’ve seen the list of books and shorts I have to produce. Right now, I’m working on a sequel to the first Delta Heat story. I hope to wrap it up by Thursday, because on Friday, I’m heading to the woods with my Diamond sisters. We’re having a writers’ retreat. There will be a dozen of us camped out in a lodge with a designated timekeeper urging us to write in two-hour blocks. Sound like fun? It is for me. I know. A little strange, right?

The best part is that my sister will be there. We have some co-written projects we have to hash through. Books we wrote a while back but got too busy to deal with. We’re going to revise them and let Samhain figure out what to do with them. They’re sexy romantic comedy. Texas tycoons, hapless heroines. Can’t wait for you to see. We still giggle over some of the scenes, so there’s magic in there. However, the gems need some major polish!

My daughter called me last night, asking if I was mad at her. Why haven’t I been over? Why don’t I talk to her as much as I used to? Of course, now I feel major guilt. She knows my schedule is insane, but she can’t help feeling a little neglected. Never mind that I swim in the pool with her and the kids at least once a day (she lives right across the street). I’m going to try my best to wrap things up early today so I can have dinner with her and the fam. Ain’t it grand bein’ loved?

Enough of my life now. Let’s talk about yours.

Do you have kids, siblings, parents whom you’ve neglected because you’re busy? What are you planning to do to fix that?

Guest Blogger: Elle James (Contest)

NEW YORK CITY..GOTTA LOVE IT!

I love visiting New York City. Last year the Romance Writers of America conference was held so close to Times Square I could see it out my window…all.night.long…. When they say it is the city that never sleeps, they are right! All night long, lights shine, people come and go and taxis honk.

I love it! As a writer, I live in my own little office, barely socializing with anyone until I come out of my cave for conference. So what a difference to go to New York City.

The city is so rich in culture, a variety of people and interesting places that stories abound. I returned home with the challenge to write a proposal for a paranormal story for Nocturne Cravings. Immediately, I knew I had to set the story in New York City. I wanted a kick-ass heroine and a sexy-as-hell demon hero. Having just walked through the streets, down some back alleys and through the shadows of skyscrapers of Manhattan, I couldn’t think of anywhere I’d rather write about. Thankfully, Harlequin bought my story idea and this month HOT DEMON NIGHTS released. ~EJ

 

 

!!!PRIZE ALERT!!! – I’ll give away a download of Elle James’s HAUNTED to one lucky commenter. So leave a comment on this post for your chance to win!

 

 

HOT DEMON NIGHTS

Rookie cop Katya Danske didn’t ask to become a member of Manhattan’s Paranormal Investigative Team or to be partnered with a sexy-as-hell demon. Then a zombie literally drops into her lap and she’s recruited to help Blaise Michaels battle an impending zombie outbreak.

Blaise is as exasperating as he is arousing, but while Katya’s head tells her she should keep her distance, her body wants something else entirely. Forced to work closely together, their investigation takes them into the darkest shadows of the Manhattan underworld and makes their attraction impossible to deny. But with the zombie threat rising, their hot nights together may be their last…

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