Lily Harlem's Blog, page 169
June 26, 2015
Saturday Spankings #SatSpanks
Welcome to Saturday Spankings. Here's a few from Sexy as Hell which is a three novel boxed set with three additional spin-off stories available only on Amazon. This is a co-author that I wrote with Natalie Dae, hence the name Harlem Dae. If you have Amazon Prime you can read the entire trilogy and bonus stories for free! (Please note the first book The Novice was previously titled The Virgin but had to be changed after an issue with Amazon.)
Amazon Amazon UK
Back Cover Information
Sexy as Hell is an erotic trilogy that will submerge you into the black heart of a world of bondage and discipline, Dominance and submission, sadism and masochism.
Dare to take this twisting journey with Victor and you’ll learn the ropes with him, experience every carnal sensation and fall into a dark and dangerous love that grips like a fist and binds like a collar.
Get to know Zara, his sultry teacher, and you’ll gasp when she doles out her sinful instructions but then delight in the stunning results she not only demands but achieves. It seems Heaven and Hell are not so far apart when she holds the reins.
Victor has his layers peeled back, but when he does the same to try to get to his Vixen’s core, a revelation appears. Because Zara is a woman whose vast sexual experience is both her strength and her weakness; she can inflict pain and pleasure, make lusty demands and instruct, but she needs so much more, she needs…
Yes, the time has come to for her to admit to her needs and confess to the repairing her soul hungers for. A sea of memories, a lifetime of control requires an acknowledgement that will cut through her barriers, and there’s only one man up for the job—her virgin, her student, her newly trained monster, Victor Partridge.
The pressure was so great. Not just in my pussy, but throughout my whole body. It was as if I were truly alive, every nerve stimulated, hyper-stimulated. Soon my orgasm would be there, soon, very soon. I prayed for it to take me swiftly, then the pain would stop. But so would my high. This dizzy, reckless, submissive state would end and I’d be Zara - Carlos and Victor’s Mistress again. My responsibilities would return, my need to be in control would surface.Suddenly the additional stripes of pain stopped. The flogger was no longer beating down on me. I think it must have taken a few seconds for me to realise because I was such a bubbling mass of need and hurt anyway.“Carlos,” I hissed, aware that my mouth was wet with saliva, drooling almost. “Don’t stop, you bastard.”Nothing.I fretted my clit, cursing the fact that my orgasm was retreating before it had bloomed. “Hit me or I swear I’ll shove not one but two mega-plugs up your arse, side by side.”Still nothing.Exasperated, I sat back on my heels then turned, still tweaking my clit and hoping to re-gather the lost pulses of an orgasm.Staring down at me were two men.Carlos and Victor.Victor held Carlos’ arm aloft. The arm that held the now limp flogger.Carlos’ cheeks were red. He was breathing hard through his nose, like a bull, and his mouth was set in a tight, straight line.Victor was staring at me, unblinking, his brow creased, his lips parted and his emerald-green tie skewwhiff.“What the fucking hell...” Victor said in a strained, shocked voice. “What the fucking hell in God’s name is going on here?”
Find out more about Harlem Dae and all our joint work on our website and please give our Facebook Page a LIKE. Want to check out the many 5* reviews for Sexy as Hell? Click HERE and be sure to check out the FREE Sexy as Hell magazine.
June 25, 2015
Confessions of a Serial Writer By K D Grace
Please welcome my good friend and fellow erotic romance author KD Grace, she's chatting about the fabulous serial that's been popping up on her website lately and I know I for one, am hooked!
First off, I’d like to thank the lovely Lily Harlem for having me over for a chinwag. It’s always such a pleasure to spend time at hers. When Lily asked if I’d do a post, I said yes for a different reason. Usually I’m blogging to promote whatever novel I’ve just put out. I said yes because I’m doing something really, really fun, and I was excited for the chance to talk about it.
A few months ago, I made the decision that it was time to have more fun with my writing, time to try something different. For the past five years I’ve never had a moment when I wasn’t working to a tight deadline, and that was while trying to keep up with the PR and marketing for the books I’d already written. That’s the position we writers love to be in, always having our work in demand, but it sometimes means we fall into a rut and live very tunnel-visioned lives. It also means that projects we’d love to do, projects that are dear to our hearts never get done.
Writing has been a pleasure all of my life. In fact, writing has been THE pleasure of my life, second only to sex, and that’s probably because the two are, in my mind, very closely related. The pure pleasure of writing has always come from the creative force unleashed by the imagination. My characters, more often than not, take me in directions I totally wasn’t expecting to go, and they control the stories I write. As frightening as it is to give over the reins, the results are always exciting for me, and for the reader.
There are always other stories I want to write, other characters whom I’d met in previous novels that I want to spend more time with. I promised myself that it was time to throw caution to the wind and let that happen. For me that meant playing with story on my blog, doing stories especially for the blog, experimenting with creativity in my posts, and writing another serial.
The first serial I wrote was Demon Interrupted , which I did in episodes that came out every three weeks. I completed it last Halloween. (You see what I did there? J) The character I wanted to know more about was a secondary character, who caught my attention in my Lakeland Witches Trilogy. I wanted to know Ferris Ryder’s story. It was the most fun I’d had writing in ages! Writing a serial is such a different animal because of the episodic nature, and each time I sit down to write an installment, it’s like sitting down to a new adventure, very immediate, very spontaneous.
After Demon Interrupted, my life got consumed by projects with deadlines, projects that I got paid for and my intentions to write another serial were put on hold. Until four weeks ago. I got bold and decided to do a weekly serial based on a short story I wrote ages ago, that had been through many incarnations, but never ended up quite like I wanted it to because there was way more happening than I could explore in ten or twenty pages. Voila! In The Flesh , the serial was born!
What I love most about writing a serial for my blog is that it’s a chance for me to completely let the Muse lead me on a weekly basis. Also, I really love the fact that it’s something I can give my readers, a little guilty pleasure every Friday, sort of a literary nooner. In a way they’re looking over my shoulder as the story unfolds.
In The Flesh is very dark paranormal erotica. When Susan Innes comes to visit her friend, Annie Rivers, in Chapel House, the deconsecrated church that Annie is renovating into a home, she discovers her outgoing friend changed, reclusive, secretive, and completely enthralled by a mysterious lover, whose presence is always felt, but never seen, a lover whom she claims is god. As her holiday turns into a nightmare, Susan must come to grips with the fact that her friend’s lover is neither imaginary nor is he human, and even worse, he’s turned his wandering eye on Susan, and he won’t be denied his prize.
Excerpt:
Long toward morning I woke with a start. The room was awash in the scent of roses, and I was certain someone had called my name. “Annie?” I half whispered. There was no reply, no sound other than the anxious breathing that must surely have been my own. Surely. The pitch black of the room pressed in all around me like another presence, so close that I felt if I switched on the light, I would suddenly come face to face with it. The bile of panic rose in my throat. I threw off the duvet and fumbled for my phone, dropping it on the mattress before I could finally slice the blackness with a sliver of light. The drop cloth curtains trembled on either side of me, no doubt from my own panicked actions, and the smell of roses thickened.
Careful to keep the sliver of light, I slipped into my robe and hurried to check on Annie. Even in the stairwell I could hear her moans. As I neared the transept the air felt charged and heavy like that moment in a storm just before lightning strikes. The hair on my neck rose and goose flesh prickled up my spine. I held my breath as I tiptoed closer. The plastic drop cloths had been shoved onto the floor in a heap, and there in the moonlight she lay, thrashing atop the altar, her hair splayed like a halo around her head, her nightie pushed up over her hips. She arched her back and cried out, reaching her arms upward to something I couldn’t see.
I wanted to run, but instead, I stood frozen, bathed in cold sweat, waiting for logic to explain everything away, as the moonlight around her seemed to explode and coalesce with her ecstasy. The smell of jasmine, Annie’s favourite flower, cloyed at my throat making my headache. After what seemed like an eternity, the urge to flee finally took control. Heart pounding, I stepped back, hoping to leave unnoticed, when suddenly I felt a rush of wind against my face and breathed the musky odour of sex. I stumbled backward, unable to hold back a small yelp. My phone slipped through my fingers and skittered under a pew as the scent of jasmine gave way to roses.
In the heavy press of darkness, I half ran, half fell down the hall back toward my room, tripping over the edge of a drop cloth thrown across the floor and coming down hard on both knees with a breathless curse. I pulled myself to my feet gasping for oxygen, groping at the wall for the electrical switch, desperate for light – any kind of light. Though I was disturbed by what I had seen, I was more disturbed by the fact that it had aroused me even through my fear. As my eyes adjusted, light coming in from the small window in the door of the makeshift kitchen bathed the room in monochrome grey. Another gust of wind blew the door open with a loud crash. I yelped and jumped forward to force it shut. Then I could have sworn I heard my name again, called out with such longing that I couldn’t stop myself. With hands slippery from nervous sweat, I fumbled the door open again and stepped out onto the patio. The clutter of Terra cotta pots looked like strange squat specters in the dance of moonlight and shadow. Making my way past derelict strawberry jars, several bags of ancient compost and wheeless wheelbarrow, I immerged into a large garden over grown with weeds. It was the deconsecrated churchyard, I reminded myself with a shiver. In the bright moonlight, I stood holding my breath. Listening.
Annie had taken twisted pleasure in speculating about the graveyard that had once been the back garden. She had imagined exhumed medieval skeletons taken to the London Museum to be studies and cataloged. She had imagined underground catacombs where ghosts of priests and and murderers alike scurried on secret missions, some sinister, some holy. I shivered at the thought and pulled the robe tighter around me. I had not found her speculation amusing then, and I found it even less so now. I found nothing about this place amusing. Fighting my way through a tangle of ivy I came to a stone bench that looked like it well might have belonged in a graveyard. Not wanting to go back inside Chapel House, I sat down, hoping desperately that if I thought long enough I’d find a rational explanation for everything that had happened or I’d wake up and discover it had all been a bad dream. Staying in places with intriguing pasts often brought me unsettling dreams.
I could smell roses again -- old roses, not any sort of modern hybrid. Only old roses would smell so strong and so sweet amid the rank growth of weeds. As I breathed in the scent that seemed to be coming from just over my shoulder, I felt a humid breeze on my neck, brushing my nape, like breath exhaled with the settling of a kiss. The leaves rustled around me, and the bench was suddenly in shadow. With a start, I turned to hear the sound of footsteps retreating down the path. “Annie? Hello?” I clamoured to my feet and followed the rustle of leaves, the scent of roses always just ahead of me. “Annie, this isn’t funny, alright? This isn’t funny!”
I hadn’t remembered the garden being so large. It felt as though I wandered the paths for hours. My spine constantly prickled, but a quick glance over my shoulder always revealed no one following me. The paving stones were mossy and slick beneath my bare feet. I stumbled along ignoring the scratch of bramble and the sting of nettle, shoving my way through leaves damp with dew until I broke through, as though I’d just pushed aside a curtain. With a gasp, I stopped short, nearly losing my footing on the moss.
The smell of roses was overwhelming. The sense of not being alone crawled along my spine on little insect feet. In a small copse set between aging lilac bushes taller than my head and a gnarled hawthorn hedge that might have once been apart of a formal garden, he loomed over me. I swallowed back a scream just before it could escape, just as I realized he was an angel, or at least a statue of one.
Slightly more than human size, his weathered marble toes barely touched a low plinth, as though he were just alighting. One large hand was extended in invitation toward me, the other rested on his naked chest over his heart. A billowing veil of stone just covered his groin so that his perfect form, all but the most intimate of it, shown silver in the moonlight, frozen in a motion of welcome, muscles tensed in anticipation, empty eyes locked on mine.
With my heart battering my ribs, I stood unmoving, stone cold, as though I were his marble counterpart. I know this sounds crazy. And even after so much time has past, it still sounds crazy every time I think of it, and yet I knew then, just as certainly as I know now that something ancient, something primal, moved over my skin, like the brush of spider webs and dust motes, fingering its way deeper, into secret places, places in myself where even I never dare go. Whatever it was, it knew me, it understood me, and its longing for me was terrible.*****
The recent short stories, ‘journal entries,’ and In The Flesh, along with Landscapes, a story I wrote for the wonderful m/m collection, Brit Boys: On Boys are all tied into a bigger project linked with my present WIP and the world it involves. I’m having fun on a grand scale, and sharing it with my readers as I go. Thanks again for having me, Lily! Always a pleasure!
If you want to read In The Flesh or Demon Interrupted , follow the links and enjoy!
About K D Grace/Grace Marshall
Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace/Grace Marshall believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?
When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She also enjoys martial arts, reading, watching the birds and anything that gets her outdoors.
KD has erotica published with SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.
K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly , Fulfilling the Contract , To Rome with Lust , and The Pet Shop . Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising , the first book of her Lakeland Witches trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire , are now also available.
K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision , Identity Crisis , The Exhibition, Interviewing Wade are all available.
Find K D Here: Website The Brit Babes Facebook Twitter
First off, I’d like to thank the lovely Lily Harlem for having me over for a chinwag. It’s always such a pleasure to spend time at hers. When Lily asked if I’d do a post, I said yes for a different reason. Usually I’m blogging to promote whatever novel I’ve just put out. I said yes because I’m doing something really, really fun, and I was excited for the chance to talk about it.
A few months ago, I made the decision that it was time to have more fun with my writing, time to try something different. For the past five years I’ve never had a moment when I wasn’t working to a tight deadline, and that was while trying to keep up with the PR and marketing for the books I’d already written. That’s the position we writers love to be in, always having our work in demand, but it sometimes means we fall into a rut and live very tunnel-visioned lives. It also means that projects we’d love to do, projects that are dear to our hearts never get done.
Writing has been a pleasure all of my life. In fact, writing has been THE pleasure of my life, second only to sex, and that’s probably because the two are, in my mind, very closely related. The pure pleasure of writing has always come from the creative force unleashed by the imagination. My characters, more often than not, take me in directions I totally wasn’t expecting to go, and they control the stories I write. As frightening as it is to give over the reins, the results are always exciting for me, and for the reader.
There are always other stories I want to write, other characters whom I’d met in previous novels that I want to spend more time with. I promised myself that it was time to throw caution to the wind and let that happen. For me that meant playing with story on my blog, doing stories especially for the blog, experimenting with creativity in my posts, and writing another serial.
The first serial I wrote was Demon Interrupted , which I did in episodes that came out every three weeks. I completed it last Halloween. (You see what I did there? J) The character I wanted to know more about was a secondary character, who caught my attention in my Lakeland Witches Trilogy. I wanted to know Ferris Ryder’s story. It was the most fun I’d had writing in ages! Writing a serial is such a different animal because of the episodic nature, and each time I sit down to write an installment, it’s like sitting down to a new adventure, very immediate, very spontaneous.
After Demon Interrupted, my life got consumed by projects with deadlines, projects that I got paid for and my intentions to write another serial were put on hold. Until four weeks ago. I got bold and decided to do a weekly serial based on a short story I wrote ages ago, that had been through many incarnations, but never ended up quite like I wanted it to because there was way more happening than I could explore in ten or twenty pages. Voila! In The Flesh , the serial was born!
What I love most about writing a serial for my blog is that it’s a chance for me to completely let the Muse lead me on a weekly basis. Also, I really love the fact that it’s something I can give my readers, a little guilty pleasure every Friday, sort of a literary nooner. In a way they’re looking over my shoulder as the story unfolds.
In The Flesh is very dark paranormal erotica. When Susan Innes comes to visit her friend, Annie Rivers, in Chapel House, the deconsecrated church that Annie is renovating into a home, she discovers her outgoing friend changed, reclusive, secretive, and completely enthralled by a mysterious lover, whose presence is always felt, but never seen, a lover whom she claims is god. As her holiday turns into a nightmare, Susan must come to grips with the fact that her friend’s lover is neither imaginary nor is he human, and even worse, he’s turned his wandering eye on Susan, and he won’t be denied his prize.
Excerpt:
Long toward morning I woke with a start. The room was awash in the scent of roses, and I was certain someone had called my name. “Annie?” I half whispered. There was no reply, no sound other than the anxious breathing that must surely have been my own. Surely. The pitch black of the room pressed in all around me like another presence, so close that I felt if I switched on the light, I would suddenly come face to face with it. The bile of panic rose in my throat. I threw off the duvet and fumbled for my phone, dropping it on the mattress before I could finally slice the blackness with a sliver of light. The drop cloth curtains trembled on either side of me, no doubt from my own panicked actions, and the smell of roses thickened.
Careful to keep the sliver of light, I slipped into my robe and hurried to check on Annie. Even in the stairwell I could hear her moans. As I neared the transept the air felt charged and heavy like that moment in a storm just before lightning strikes. The hair on my neck rose and goose flesh prickled up my spine. I held my breath as I tiptoed closer. The plastic drop cloths had been shoved onto the floor in a heap, and there in the moonlight she lay, thrashing atop the altar, her hair splayed like a halo around her head, her nightie pushed up over her hips. She arched her back and cried out, reaching her arms upward to something I couldn’t see.
I wanted to run, but instead, I stood frozen, bathed in cold sweat, waiting for logic to explain everything away, as the moonlight around her seemed to explode and coalesce with her ecstasy. The smell of jasmine, Annie’s favourite flower, cloyed at my throat making my headache. After what seemed like an eternity, the urge to flee finally took control. Heart pounding, I stepped back, hoping to leave unnoticed, when suddenly I felt a rush of wind against my face and breathed the musky odour of sex. I stumbled backward, unable to hold back a small yelp. My phone slipped through my fingers and skittered under a pew as the scent of jasmine gave way to roses.
In the heavy press of darkness, I half ran, half fell down the hall back toward my room, tripping over the edge of a drop cloth thrown across the floor and coming down hard on both knees with a breathless curse. I pulled myself to my feet gasping for oxygen, groping at the wall for the electrical switch, desperate for light – any kind of light. Though I was disturbed by what I had seen, I was more disturbed by the fact that it had aroused me even through my fear. As my eyes adjusted, light coming in from the small window in the door of the makeshift kitchen bathed the room in monochrome grey. Another gust of wind blew the door open with a loud crash. I yelped and jumped forward to force it shut. Then I could have sworn I heard my name again, called out with such longing that I couldn’t stop myself. With hands slippery from nervous sweat, I fumbled the door open again and stepped out onto the patio. The clutter of Terra cotta pots looked like strange squat specters in the dance of moonlight and shadow. Making my way past derelict strawberry jars, several bags of ancient compost and wheeless wheelbarrow, I immerged into a large garden over grown with weeds. It was the deconsecrated churchyard, I reminded myself with a shiver. In the bright moonlight, I stood holding my breath. Listening.
Annie had taken twisted pleasure in speculating about the graveyard that had once been the back garden. She had imagined exhumed medieval skeletons taken to the London Museum to be studies and cataloged. She had imagined underground catacombs where ghosts of priests and and murderers alike scurried on secret missions, some sinister, some holy. I shivered at the thought and pulled the robe tighter around me. I had not found her speculation amusing then, and I found it even less so now. I found nothing about this place amusing. Fighting my way through a tangle of ivy I came to a stone bench that looked like it well might have belonged in a graveyard. Not wanting to go back inside Chapel House, I sat down, hoping desperately that if I thought long enough I’d find a rational explanation for everything that had happened or I’d wake up and discover it had all been a bad dream. Staying in places with intriguing pasts often brought me unsettling dreams.
I could smell roses again -- old roses, not any sort of modern hybrid. Only old roses would smell so strong and so sweet amid the rank growth of weeds. As I breathed in the scent that seemed to be coming from just over my shoulder, I felt a humid breeze on my neck, brushing my nape, like breath exhaled with the settling of a kiss. The leaves rustled around me, and the bench was suddenly in shadow. With a start, I turned to hear the sound of footsteps retreating down the path. “Annie? Hello?” I clamoured to my feet and followed the rustle of leaves, the scent of roses always just ahead of me. “Annie, this isn’t funny, alright? This isn’t funny!”
I hadn’t remembered the garden being so large. It felt as though I wandered the paths for hours. My spine constantly prickled, but a quick glance over my shoulder always revealed no one following me. The paving stones were mossy and slick beneath my bare feet. I stumbled along ignoring the scratch of bramble and the sting of nettle, shoving my way through leaves damp with dew until I broke through, as though I’d just pushed aside a curtain. With a gasp, I stopped short, nearly losing my footing on the moss.
The smell of roses was overwhelming. The sense of not being alone crawled along my spine on little insect feet. In a small copse set between aging lilac bushes taller than my head and a gnarled hawthorn hedge that might have once been apart of a formal garden, he loomed over me. I swallowed back a scream just before it could escape, just as I realized he was an angel, or at least a statue of one.
Slightly more than human size, his weathered marble toes barely touched a low plinth, as though he were just alighting. One large hand was extended in invitation toward me, the other rested on his naked chest over his heart. A billowing veil of stone just covered his groin so that his perfect form, all but the most intimate of it, shown silver in the moonlight, frozen in a motion of welcome, muscles tensed in anticipation, empty eyes locked on mine.
With my heart battering my ribs, I stood unmoving, stone cold, as though I were his marble counterpart. I know this sounds crazy. And even after so much time has past, it still sounds crazy every time I think of it, and yet I knew then, just as certainly as I know now that something ancient, something primal, moved over my skin, like the brush of spider webs and dust motes, fingering its way deeper, into secret places, places in myself where even I never dare go. Whatever it was, it knew me, it understood me, and its longing for me was terrible.*****
The recent short stories, ‘journal entries,’ and In The Flesh, along with Landscapes, a story I wrote for the wonderful m/m collection, Brit Boys: On Boys are all tied into a bigger project linked with my present WIP and the world it involves. I’m having fun on a grand scale, and sharing it with my readers as I go. Thanks again for having me, Lily! Always a pleasure!
If you want to read In The Flesh or Demon Interrupted , follow the links and enjoy!
About K D Grace/Grace Marshall
Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace/Grace Marshall believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?
When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She also enjoys martial arts, reading, watching the birds and anything that gets her outdoors.
KD has erotica published with SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.
K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly , Fulfilling the Contract , To Rome with Lust , and The Pet Shop . Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising , the first book of her Lakeland Witches trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire , are now also available.
K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision , Identity Crisis , The Exhibition, Interviewing Wade are all available.
Find K D Here: Website The Brit Babes Facebook Twitter
June 24, 2015
Special Offer - Sexy Just Got Rich
Wow have I got some hot deals for you today! If you're all in a dither about sexy billionaire, BDSM loving heroes then check out Sexy Just Got Rich and find my story, In Safe Hands, lurking within the pages. For a limited time only this erotic medley of steamy and romantic stories from the Brit Babes (of which I am 1/8) is only 99c/99p. Go...go...go...
And if you enjoy In Safe Hands check out the full length novel to go with it, In Expert Hands, that features the gorgeous, and seductively kinky, Kane Ward.
Find Sexy Just Got Rich on Amazon / Amazon UK and all other good ebook retailers.
As if that isn't enough, I have FREE read for you too. The Brit Babes anthology Sexy Just Walked Into Town won't cost you a penny and features my story Secret Servicing along with many more and a few co-authored reads. Grab from Amazon / Amazon UK and all other good ebook retailers.
And if we've whet your appetite why not come over to our home on the web and say hi! LIKE the Babes on Facebook and follow us on Twitter.
Mid Week Tease
Hello and welcome to Mid Week Tease. This week a few from Escape to the Country my 'anything goes' novella set in the beautiful English countryside.
Back Cover information
When the stress of city living takes its toll on Annie and Tim, a dirty weekend in the country visiting sexy friends proves to be just the antidote.
London life is hard going for Annie and Tim, and despite being in love, they’re just not hitting the spot in the bedroom.So, in an attempt to put the steam back into their relationship, Tim whisks Annie to the Cotswolds to visit Matt and Jane his uber-cool, sexually liberal friends from University.
As the temperature heats to melting point in the chocolate box cottage so does the sex, and Annie, with the help of her hosts, discovers a variety of hidden carnal desires, not just in herself but also Tim.
Who would have thought he’d be into that? Who would have thought ‘that’ would have her buzzing from head to toe?
Reader Advisory: This book contains Ménage scenes and both M/M and F/F intimacy.
“Come for us, Annie,” Jane said breathlessly. “Come so I can watch you the way you watched me. We need to know what a real one looks like.”Like falling off a cliff and giving myself up to the power of gravity, I let my whole body be overtaken by their expert handling. Every muscle in my pelvis contracted like coiled springs. Every nerve stored up energy, ready for the pounding explosion. My mouth opened in a silent cry and my gaze glued onto Jane’s. Her wide pupils flashed with delight.The pressure was so intense. they drove so deep. We were like one being, and as I shuddered through the convulsions, they carried on increasing the tempo, squeezing every last drip of pleasure from me, blasting in and rubbing harder. It was as if they wouldn’t be happy until I was a boneless heap of orgasmic waste.“Oh, God,” I squealed. “That’s it...please...” I buried my head on Jane’s shoulder. The sensations were too much to bear. It was more intense than I’d ever experienced. There was pain, there was pleasure—it was out of my control. “No more.”“Hang on, baby,” Tim grunted behind me. “Hang on one more sec.” I felt his cock freeze deep inside then he too was convulsing. Grinding out his own powerful climax and taking his pleasure from my wrecked body.Jane moved her hand to my nipples and began to tweak and pull, elongating the swollen points to sharp, painful arrows. I whimpered in delight and shivered for more of her torment.Tim carried on moving, the slit on his dick rubbing at my g-spot. Before I knew it, another orgasm captured me. The sensations in my roughly handled tits flew straight to the walls of my vagina and catapulted me into another wave of spasms. “Don’t stop,” I cried out, arching back onto Tim, frantic he’d think I was finished and stop his thrusting. “Please, don’t stop, not yet.”He took the hint and carried on fucking me. Jayne squeezed my erect nipples so hard I knew there’d be bruises the next day.“There you go,” Jane said triumphantly into my hair. “That’s how you like it, isn’t it, Annie? A bit of pain mixed in with the pleasure. Its okay, we know that now. It’ll all be alright.”
You can grab your copy of Escape to the Country from the publisher, Totally Bound, Amazon, Amazon UK and all other good ebook retailers.
June 22, 2015
Sexy as Hell by Harlem Dae
Check out my co-authored box set Sexy as Hell which contains three BDSM novels and three spin-off stories. Available only on Amazon/Amazon UK and FREE if you have Amazon Prime. While you're there check out the many 5* reviews which include comments like "Blows FSOG and Crossfire out of the water!"
More information here.
June 21, 2015
Sunday Snog
Welcome to Sunday Snog - this week a sexy smooch from Going Up which is my new short menage a trois story out this week. It features in the Wanderlust Anthology but is also available as a standalone ebook.
“Where are we going?” I asked.“Up,” Henry said. “We’re going up of course.”I laughed and turned within his arms.“Do you like the bubbly?” he asked.“It’s lovely.” I drained my glass.He set it, along with his, in the hamper basket.“This baby flies beautifully,” Felix said, checking a dial that looked like a compass. “I’ve been flying her for over a year now and she just gets better.”Again I looked up. The air was hazy, the heat distorting the black lines that outlined the diamond shaped pattern.Henry pushed my hair over my ears and cupped my cheeks, tippedmy face to his. “I’m glad you’re wearing that disgracefully short skirt,” he whispered against my lips.“Why?”“Because I’m going to need easy access.”I wriggled against him. His cock was noticeably harder than it hadbeen before. “We can’t ... what about Felix?”“Like I said, Felix and I go back a long way.”The wind caught the balloon and we shifted to the left. I hung ontoHenry even more tightly.“Air current’s perfect,” Felix said, shielding his eyes and looking into the distance. “This should take us on a nice long ride, it couldn’t be better conditions.”“Go with it, Faye,” Henry said quietly. “Just go with it and I promise it will be everything you hoped for.”He kissed me, and even though I was full of questions I melted into him. He backed me against the wall of the basket, which hit below my shoulders, and began a slow, sensual dance with his tongue.He tasted of champagne, of mint and of Henry—a unique blend of flavours that always got me burning up for him, no matter where we were.The alcohol hit my brain, not much, just a little, adding to the wonderful floaty feeling I already had. I felt light, high, my body was buzzing not least because Henry was running his hands over my body. His hands encircled my waist before gliding down to my hips. My skirt only travelled a few inches down my thighs and soon he was stroking my bare flesh.I shivered a little, in anticipation, not cold, and ran my fingers into his hair. The thick curls knotted around my knuckles and he groaned as I pulled them, the way he had last night when he’d been going down on me and I’d yanked on his hair when the sensations overwhelmed me.My pussy clenched. The mere memory of that blisteringly intense orgasm was turning me on and, combined with the way he was kissing and stroking me, pure lust was now coursing through my veins.His touch snuck beneath my skirt and his fingers skimmed over my pussy lips, teasing the ridges of flesh through my sheer underwear.“Henry,” I gasped into his mouth. The need for more was instant but uncertainty held me back.“Shh,” he murmured. “Remember you said you wanted to have sex in front of an audience?”“I did?” Probably. I’d said lots of things that night.He chuckled. “Yes, fantasy number twenty-two if I remember correctly, though you were getting pretty desperate by that point.”He nudged my thighs apart with his knee. “Let me touch you, here, now,” he whispered, again rubbing my pussy lips through the material of my panties. “Let me make you come as we’re going up ... and with Felix watching.”A quiver of arousal shot through me, engorging my clit and making me grind against his fingers.Damn he’s so persuasive.I looked over his shoulder.Felix was staring at us. A half-smirk tugged at the corner of his lips and his pupils were wide; clearly he had a touch of voyeur in him.“Don’t mind me,” he said. “Henry’s been quite specific about how this morning is going to fulfil your fantasies, and I think you’re going to enjoy it just fine.” He paused. “Hell, I know I am.”He leaned back against the basket and crossed one leg over the other. At the apex of his pale cream chinos, a heavy bulge seemed to stretch the fabric.“Darling, relax,” Henry said against my ear. “Relax as I touch you. Felix is hardly a simpering virgin. He’ll adore seeing you come, you’re glorious when you just let go.”Oh, what the hell.I’d never been described as shy and I was in a basket with two seriously gorgeous guys. What harm could a quick little orgasm do when I was feeling this turned on? And Henry was right, it did turn me on, the thought of us being watched. Of me being watched. “Okay,” I said quickly, before I changed my mind.
Amazon Amazon UK Sweetmeats Press (full anthology) also available from many other ebook retailers.
Be sure to check out the other great authors participating in Sunday Snog.
June 19, 2015
Saturday Spankings
Welcome to Saturday Spankings. This week I have a freebie for you! Caught on Camera is a five part serial and Part One won't cost you a penny and will set the scene for a roller coaster ride of porn, love and some serious spankings between Cade and Reece.
Today's snippet comes from book 4 in the serial.
Silence descended. It was as if everyone had collectively held their breath.Then the real hit came. A streak of electric-hot pain seared over his right buttock.Reece yelled around the gag, his tongue bashing into the ball. Shit, that had really fucking hurt.Before he’d finished thrashing against his binds another hit came. It speared across the first slash, creating an agonizing cross right over his arse.His cock heaved. His belly clenched. A wild ringing in his ears blocked out all thought and he felt like he was lifting off the floor, getting higher and higher. Looking down on himself, suspended, hovering on climax, surrendered to not just Cade, but everyone. Everyone here, everyone he’d ever known, everyone he’d ever meet in the future.Suddenly the vibrating stopped.Cade removed the plug with a slippery tug.Almost immediately Reece felt the hot tip of Cade’s cock pushing into him.He could have wept with relief. It was Cade he needed right now. Nothing else would do.Cade didn’t go on an easy, stretching ride but a fast, frantic drive to full depth.Reece held his breath, accepted Cade completely and allowed the first pulse of his orgasm to spurt out of his cock.“Fuck yeah, come, sub,” Cade gasped by his ear. “Come and let everyone see that I own you. That you’re mine. That you’ll only ever be mine.”
Series Blurb
Lights. Camera. Action. The life of an international porn star might be glamorous, satisfying and well paid but it’s also hard work—very hard—in every sense of the word!
So it’s just as well Reece Carter is up for the job and has the sexiest co-star imaginable, Cade Davenport. They’re the hot new stars of GP Productions latest blockbuster, Slippery Slots, set in Las Vegas, and they can’t wait to get naked and get started.
With scripts to learn, wardrobe to contend with and a whole host of new experiences to look forward to, Reece takes the bull by the horns and jumps on for the ride. What he doesn’t bargain on, though, is finding love alongside his fat pay cheque.
But is the feeling mutual? And what happens when a cowboy, a box of intriguing props and a trip to a BDSM dungeon gets thrown into the scene?
Can Reece handle the heat? Is he really capable of performing before an audience? And will Cade be there when he needs him most?
Grab your FREE copy of Caught on Camera Part One from Totally Bound, Amazon/Amazon UK and many more good ebook retailers. And if you enjoy, please leave a review and check out the rest of the series.
Part One starts off with sexy skinny dipping!
My Sexy Saturday - Our Sexy Best ~ @MySexySaturday #MySexySaturday #Saturday7 #MSSAuthors
Welcome to My Sexy Saturday. This week we're talking about The Best, think Tina Turner...
So I'm going to share with you a few from my new short erotic story Going Up. It's featured in the Wanderlust Anthology but can be purchased as a standalone read. The heroine Faye has certainly gotten lucky when she found Henry, and when she discloses her deepest darkest fantasies which he sets about realising, then yes, she knows she's found the best!
Amazon Amazon UK Sweetmeats Press (full anthology)
Back Cover Information
Faye has got herself a new man who takes great pleasure in introducing her to new experiences, and a hot air balloon ride over the English countryside is only the start!
“This baby flies beautifully,” Felix said, checking a dial that looked like a compass. “I’ve been flying her for over a year now and she just gets better.”
Again I looked up. The air was hazy, the heat distorting the black lines that outlined the diamond shaped pattern. Henry pushed my hair over my ears and cupped my cheeks, tipped my face to his. “I’m glad you’re wearing that disgracefully short skirt,” he whispered against my lips. “Why?” “Because I’m going to need easy access.” I wriggled against him. His cock was noticeably harder than it had been before. “We can’t ... what about Felix?” “Like I said, Felix and I go back a long way.” The wind caught the balloon and we shifted to the left. I hung onto Henry even more tightly. “Air current’s perfect,” Felix said, shielding his eyes and looking into the distance. “This should take us on a nice long ride, it couldn’t be better conditions.” “Go with it, Faye,” Henry said quietly. “Just go with it and I promise it will be everything you hoped for.” He kissed me, and even though I was full of questions I melted into him. He backed me against the wall of the basket, which hit below my shoulders, and began a slow, sensual dance with his tongue.
June 17, 2015
Cover Reveal - Rule Breaker
Due out in November 2015 in ebook and paperback, Rule Breaker is a dark erotic romance novel that features the ultimate bad boy, Miller Davenport.
Locks, keys and prison bars can’t contain a love that’s meant to roam wild and free, but when that love is let loose will Lacey be able to handle what’s heading her way?
Rules are meant to protect the innocent and keep danger at bay. Except for me the lines blur and it all started when I met the ultimate bad boy. But is he? Miller Davenport might be big, bad and brimming with sin but he’s confessed his crimes and for ten years he’s served his time and walked the line.
Everyone deserves a second chance, right? And as his nurse, the one person who understands him, I can’t help but count the days till we can be together properly without guards watching over us and without every look and word we share censored.
When that day comes, though, will our desire for each other explode and take me to the new heights he’s promised, and if so how will I survive such intensity?
One thing is for sure, with Miller I’ll be whisked up in a whirlwind of his dark energy and a tornado of his lust, and likely taken to the very edge of what I can handle. I can’t help a few nerves though, as release day approaches, because if it all comes crashing down who can I depend on when I’ve ridden into the sunset with a man who’s broken all the rules?
Will I be saved or will I have pushed everyone and everything too far?
Watch this space for more details or sign up to my newsletter to have your memory jogged nearer release day.
Locks, keys and prison bars can’t contain a love that’s meant to roam wild and free, but when that love is let loose will Lacey be able to handle what’s heading her way?
Rules are meant to protect the innocent and keep danger at bay. Except for me the lines blur and it all started when I met the ultimate bad boy. But is he? Miller Davenport might be big, bad and brimming with sin but he’s confessed his crimes and for ten years he’s served his time and walked the line.
Everyone deserves a second chance, right? And as his nurse, the one person who understands him, I can’t help but count the days till we can be together properly without guards watching over us and without every look and word we share censored.
When that day comes, though, will our desire for each other explode and take me to the new heights he’s promised, and if so how will I survive such intensity?
One thing is for sure, with Miller I’ll be whisked up in a whirlwind of his dark energy and a tornado of his lust, and likely taken to the very edge of what I can handle. I can’t help a few nerves though, as release day approaches, because if it all comes crashing down who can I depend on when I’ve ridden into the sunset with a man who’s broken all the rules?
Will I be saved or will I have pushed everyone and everything too far?
Watch this space for more details or sign up to my newsletter to have your memory jogged nearer release day.
