Lily Harlem's Blog, page 241

Grand Slam - release date 23rd August!

Lucy and I are thrilled to announce that our co-authored novel Grand Slam now has a release date. We’ll be heating up your eReaders from the 23rd of August 2013!
Here’s a reminder of what the book is all about, if you haven’t seen already…
California had seduced me with promises of a new life working at Los Carlos Tennis Academy. What I didn’t expect was the dark, brooding number one seed, Travis Connolly, resisting my help. He wasn’t interested in my psychology skills, instead his attention was drawn to the edgy, sharper corners of my desires, proving that they existed, setting me challenges and driving me crazy to the point of combustion.
I’m the best tennis player in the world—officially—so why would I need a damn woman full of psychobabble to get me on form? Despite my irritation however, I couldn’t resist pushing Marie Sherratt’s buttons even though doing that showed her the darkest shades of my lust, the parts of me I buried deep. So I set her a challenge, one she rose to, one that had me rising too, and before long my game was relying on her calling the shots, hitting the target and bending to my will. One thing was certain, being not just master of the court, but also of Marie was seriously good for my soul.
In the meantime, add the book to your Goodreads shelves here: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18212109-grand-slam
and whet your appetite with a trailer on the Raw Talent website...

August Alfresco #bloghop #win #kindle #erotica

Welcome to Smut Alfresco and thanks to Victoria Blisse for organising this great event with fabulous prizes. All you have to do is comment on this post to be in to win one of these fabulous prizes:


A Kindle

£50 worth of Total-E-Bound ebooks

£50 worth of Xcite ebooks

And be sure to check out all the August Alfresco posts at http://smutalfresco.co.uk  and comment on each one to have more chances to win. Winners announced on 1st September.


Smut Alfresco is all about enjoying a little together time in the great outdoors.  So, then, lets get to it...


Who’s had it?
Who wants it?
Who’s planning it?

I must admit I have, and its great fun, Mr H and I call it an EPDA - Extreme Public Display of Affection! Though luckily we've never been caught!




So why is it such fun? It's all about the situation, it has to be. Normally you’re in the safety of your home, probably in your bedroom.  He sees you naked - sort of, in the winter you’re likely to be under the covers - but a flash of creamy cleavage or the tip of a stocking on a night out with friends is unexpected, a hand on his thigh at a meal with his family is naughty and fills you with a heat normally associated with the first flush of romance. Does outdoor sex re-capture that feeling?

Possibly, but also is it because you wonder who around you is voyeuristic? Would they be shocked if they knew what you did in privacy? If they saw you getting down and dirty and the treats you gave each other on birthdays and anniversaries? Well, they’re never going to know unless you invite them into the bedroom which is why it’s fun to think about having sex outside the confines of your home, in public, as long of course, you escape being arrested for indecent exposure or lewd behaviour! Note – don’t try this in any of the Middle East countries, it could turn out ‘very’ badly!




The secret to loving lustily in the long term is to surprise each other sexually. So, some spontaneous sex outside the bedroom, and yes, it’s easy to bypass this idea when you have a big comfy bed at home, can be a great addition to your fun and it’s that very contrast of having comfort to ‘making do’ which is the key. Instead of routine and predictable, door locked, clean sheets, imagine being shoved up against a gritty wall in a back-alley as you tumble out of a restaurant where he’s just secured a deal with clients – mmm, that is sexy as hell. Standing position at this point is obviously the only way to go, who wants to lie in alley garbage? Plus you can easily extricate yourselves and run and/or head back in for dessert. If you have a voluminous skirt on your dignity is almost maintained, well, maybe not if your legs are wrapped around his waist and his naked butt is grinding against you. But why would you be thinking about that when this position gives that hot spot such a delicious pounding. Afterwards you straighten yourselves out, carry on with the evening, and act as though nothing has happened, yet you both know it has.




If the back alley isn’t working for you how about the wonder of nature. Picnics, hikes, woodland forages all take on a new meaning if your plan is to have outdoor sex. Probably not for the shy if it’s broad daylight, and remember dog walkers and farmers are out early and late in the day, but there’s probably a wall or a valley you could use to prevent the whole three sixty view. Again that floaty gypsy skirt could come in handy, as could a picnic blanket. Just don’t be shocked if the local wildlife has a nosy at you.




Of course there are always famous monuments you could try if you are more daring – check out this couple in the archway of a Sydney clock-tower. Got to have a bit of nerve for that one not to mention a head for heights. And completely naked?




I often include outdoor sex in my books, in fact there's not many that spring to mind that don't have a bit of alfreso loving. Certainly my latest releases have. Breathe You In is a sexy romance about love, loss and hope and certainly has its fair share of steamy moments. If you would like to read about my inspiration for this erotic romance that is sweeping the board with 5* reviews head to my dedicated blog post.


Here is an excerpt taken from about a third of the way through the book... Ruben and Katie have just shared their first kiss while out on a Picnic in the English countryside.




“Katie,” he whispered when I pulled back from our soft kiss.“I’m sorry.” I could taste him, just a little. It hadn’t been a big, open-mouthed snog, merely a touch. But still, it had spoken a thousand words, and it was the first time I’d kissed anyone other than Matt in nearly a decade.“No, please don’t apologize.” He placed his hands on my shoulders, his thumbs grazing my collarbones through my t-shirt. “I liked it, but…are you sure?”“I’m trying to put my life back together, too, Ruben. Matt will always be with me, no one can replace him.” I paused, juddered in a breath and put my hand on Ruben’s chest again. “Our time together was cut short, but the memories I have, they’re good memories.” I tried to find the right words; my emotions were tangled, my thoughts jumbled, but basically I just wanted to be with Ruben, it felt right. In a very basic, limbic part of my brain Ruben was someone I needed. “But I want to make new memories, happy ones, fun ones. I can’t be a sad widow who everyone feels sorry for anymore. It’s not what Matt would have wanted for me, I know that.”“If he loved you he would have wanted you to find happiness again.” He stroked his thumbs to the dip at the base of my throat, shifting my silky scarf. It was a small, delicate caress that sent a shiver of something scarily like desire tickling over my skin.“He did love me,” I said, “with all of his heart.” And did that heart still love me? The one I could feel beating right now? Is that where love was stored, in the fibers of the cardiac muscle? And if so, did that mean Matt’s love had been transferred into Ruben when Matt’s heart was transplanted? Did Ruben love me already, because of the reassignment of an organ?“Katie?” He frowned a little.“For the first time it feels right to hear that said.”“What?”“That he would have wanted me to be happy. Oh, it’s been said to me by lots of well-meaning friends over the last year, since the anniversary of his death, and I’ve just nodded and agreed, put on my usual fake smile.” I shook my head. “But now, here, yes, he would have wanted me to be looking for happiness again and I want to find it. Not because it’s what I’m supposed to be doing, but because it’s what I want. I need to feel alive again, because, like you said, I am alive.”Ruben smiled, the edges of his mouth tilting a fraction and the creases at the corners of his eyes deepening. “Me too. God, me too.” He kissed me, a gentle connection, his tongue dipping into my mouth the tiniest amount.I slid both my hands over his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around my body, and our chests touched. My breasts, through my top, squeezed up against his firm pectoral muscles.His kiss was tender and sweet, his lips a new shape for me to learn. I touched the tip of my tongue to his, drew in the slightly salty, masculine flavor of him and knew it was something I wanted more of.He pulled me closer still. I shifted, and next thing I knew he was resting me backwards. I unfolded my legs, stretched out and knocked away the pot of carrot sticks.The feel of Ruben over me, kissing me, was exciting, frightening, wonderful and painful all at the same time.He kissed across my cheek, to my ear. His breaths were loud, his weight carefully held on his elbows.I ran my hands down his smooth back, tracing the dips and rises of his spine and the planes of his shoulder blades, all the time staring up at the cloudless sky and the bows of the birches, their tiny leaves shivering in the breeze.“You smell like flowers,” he whispered into the shell of my ear.“I do?”“Yes, so pretty.” He lifted his head and looked down at me. “Kissing you here, now, it’s my top new memory.”I smiled; the smile grew and grew until it balled my cheeks and another giggle escaped. “I think it’s mine too.”He kissed me again. I shut my eyes, lost myself in the moment. That small shiver of desire was back. The need for more, skin-on-skin and getting closer was growing. Ruben had that certain something that worked for me. His smell, taste and the way he made me feel like everything would be all right, it was something I could get hooked on.I ran my hands over the waistband of his jeans, stroked his arse cheeks through the denim. Damn, what a cute bum, taut and the perfect handful.He dropped his weight a little more, our chests pressed harder together and his groin pushed into my right hip. The kiss deepened, and a fizz of lust sparked through me. It couldn’t be ignored. My nipples were tight, there was a tug in my lower abdomen, the start of a need—a need I hadn’t thought of for so long.I lifted my left leg, curled it over the back of his and squeezed up against him. It was then I felt a long, hard bulge.“Ruben,” I gasped into his mouth as a fist of something raw and primitive gripped me. Could we? Here?




Normally, as in Breathe You In, sexy shenanigans and being at one with nature are considered to be summer time antics, but in this second excerpt from book #2, The Player, in the Sexy as Hell Trilogy (co-written with Natalie Dae) the two characters are having a clandestine outdoor liaison in January - though they are in Tuscany and the weather is fairer than the UK. These books are dark bdsm, the sex and emotions are edgy, and the journey you'll travel with Zara and Victor is a wild one! This particular section is taken from a bit where Victor has found Zara reading a magazine outside in a small, secret clearing, like everything with Zara, there's nothing innocent about it...





We lapsed into silence. Zara continued reading. I nosed at what she was so engrossed in, unsurprised. A fetish mag. She wasn’t reading at all but looking. A woman was spread-eagled across the pages, the centre fold making a slice through her naked slit. Her legs were open, and she had one hand resting at the top of a thigh, fingertips nestled in the flesh beside her plump cunt lip. Her other hand was on the floor beside her, and she clutched a cucumber, the upper half glistening, as though she’d just finished fucking herself with it. She was black-haired, very much like Zara in the looks department, and I had no trouble imagining the female next to me getting off in the same way.
I looked from the mag to the grass in front of me, finished my plum then tossed the stone. It hit one of the tree trunks ahead then dive-bombed to the mossy ground. 
“What did Ollie do?” I asked, unable to resist knowing.
“On the first night he was supposed to wank during dinner and come without anyone knowing,” she said matter of factly.
“Christ, Zara, you’re revolting sometimes, do you know that?”
“Of course I do!”
“I bloody knew something was going on.” I shook my head at the lengths Ollie was prepared to go to for her and knew he was just as bewitched—if not more—as I had been. “I take it he didn’t meet your requirements.”
“No. He didn’t do it. Started to but stopped.”
“I bet now he wishes he’d done as he was told.”
“Oh yes.”
“When will you set him free?”
She ran her finger over the mag woman’s pussy. Circled her hole. “Today. I want to go and have a drink in some wine bar or other, see a bit of this place before we go back to England. I don’t fancy going by myself, and seeing as you and Catherine are so…indisposed, I could take Ollie along.”
“Ah, I wanted to thank you,” I said.
“What for?” She stroked her thumb over the woman’s nipple.
“For that little chat you had with Catherine. It did the trick.”
“I gathered that. So now you can live happily ever after. Good for you.”
She’d sounded annoyed, or maybe bored, I couldn’t decide which. Either way, what did it matter to me?
I moved to peel my banana.
“Don’t,” she said.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t peel it.”
“Why ever not?”
“Just don’t.” She glanced across at me, licking her lips and eyeing the fruit as though it were a big yellow cock.
I thought of what she’d been looking at previous to me. “Oh. Oh, fuck.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“No. You are not having my banana to stick it up your cunt. Go and get your own.” I held it to me possessively, giving what I hoped was a stern glare.
“Really? You want me to get up, go inside, get my own banana, then come back out here to fuck myself with it when you have what I need right there? God, you’re selfish.”
“Selfish? Look, woman, you’re the one who’s selfish.” I felt mean for saying that, considering she’d basically saved my relationship with Catherine, but God, Zara drove me to the point of madness at times. “This is my breakfast. Just because you fancy having sex with it, doesn’t mean I have to automatically give it up on your say so. You want fruit sex so badly, like I said, go and get your own.”
“Fruit sex?” 
She rolled over onto her side, laughing with her mouth so wide I could see she didn’t have any top fillings. I had to smile, despite trying hard not to. How was it she could infuriate me one minute then switch my emotions to the other end of the scale so quickly? 
Bloody woman.
“Please,” she said, composing herself and taking up her former position. She stared at me, doe-eyed. “Please, Master, may I have your breakfast?”
Oh hell. She was a clever little bitch and no mistake. My cock twitched at her use of the word Master, and I was glad for the fact I was lying on my stomach. She’d have spotted that twitch, zeroed in on it and called me out. Said that I couldn’t be in love with Catherine if I allowed myself to get hard just by something another woman had said.
Would she be right?
No. She’d taught me that it was a natural reaction. If she said otherwise now, she’d be a hypocrite. But then Zara gave herself the luxury of swapping the rules around when it suited her…
“Oh, sodding well have it,” I said, tossing it onto her magazine. One end of it sat just on the centrefold’s damp hole.
Zara glanced down. “Oh, first a cucumber, and now a banana. You lucky woman,” she said to the printed page.
My cock threatened to explode into a full-blown hard-on, so I quickly got up and began walking away backwards.
“Don’t you want to watch me have fruit sex, Victor?” she asked, turning onto her back and lifting the skirt of her short dress. “Don’t you want to see how Mr Banana does it? Learn some tips?”
“Fuck off,” I said, walking forwards now and hastily making for the villa, not looking back in case she got the wrong idea. Like I wanted to watch her or something.
Once inside, I checked on Catherine, who still slept soundly. She hadn’t moved. I contemplated getting back into bed with her, waking her up like she’d done to me, giving her a bit of oral. I needed something to sate the desire that had started raring around inside me like a streaker hell bent on being noticed. 
I studied her for a second or two. Decided to leave her be.
I knew what I was about to do was wrong, but I couldn’t help myself and returned downstairs, staring out at the trees and seeing Zara with her legs spread. She held the banana up, as though she knew full well I was perving, then lowered it, plunging it between her legs. Oh, Jesus, that was a sight to see. I got hard—really hard—and rubbed myself through my jeans. She was jamming it in and out of her at quite a pace, lifting her hips so she could meet every inward thrust. I imagined what she was feeling, wondering whether the banana being curved meant the end of it grazed her G-spot just right.
My cheeks grew hot, my heart rate increased, and my damn bollocks throbbed. I let out a steady stream of air, watching her buck and writhe, the hem of her dress bunched at her waist. From what I could see she had no underwear on—I wasn’t shocked or surprised at that; this was Zara after all—and she slid her free hand beneath the fabric and began massaging her tit. I didn’t have to imagine what that felt like. A slew of memories attacked me all at once—the feel of her, the scent, the way she breathed when something was inside her hole—and I rubbed myself harder. She moved her head from side to side, and I could take no more.
I ran back out, cock pulsing, chafing on my boxers, balls so heavy they felt weighted with my lust. I reached her in no time, stood staring down at her, seeing her wetness on the banana skin and wanting to taste, taste, taste it.
“Get up,” I said, breathing heavily. “Get the fuck up!”
She obeyed, much to my astonishment, and stood before me, her cheeks flushed, her bottom lip darker than the top from where I assumed she’d been biting it. Her dress slowly glided down, and she dropped the banana. I grabbed her wrist and yanked her further into the trees, resisting the urge to glance back over my shoulder at the villa. I’d deal with the guilt later. Right at this moment I had to do what I had to do. The beast was clawing to get out, and no amount of persuasion was going to make him remain in his cage.
She didn’t ask what the hell I thought I was doing. She didn’t protest or try to stop me from guiding her behind a wide trunk. She didn’t say a damn thing when I pressed her back to it, lifted her hands above her head, then clamped them there with one of mine around her wrist.
“Take my cock out,” I demanded. “Just one last time, take my damn cock out, Zara, before I change my mind.” I let her wrists go.
She kept her arms aloft. “If you’re even thinking that you need to change your mind, then this isn’t what you should be doing, Victor.”
She was right, but I didn’t care. Didn’t want to think about what was right, what I should be doing, only about what I wanted to do. And I wanted to fuck her so hard against the tree that the bark scraped her arse cheeks, left marks, the pain getting her off.
“Get it out,” I said, staring her in the eyes.
She reached between us, drew down my zip, and the relief from the release of pressure had me sucking in a breath. She took my cock out of my boxer slit and clamped her hand around it.
“I’ll ask one last time, Victor. Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Fuck, yes,” I said. No hesitation—and that alone told me I had some serious thinking to do. Was it possible to want two women, to be able to care for them both? Could I have my cake and eat it?
She gripped me harder, pushed my cock downwards and spread her legs. I watched her drag up her dress and position me at her opening, then I plunged in. God, it was like coming home. Her inner walls hugged me, and I jammed in and out of her much like that banana had. Cum swirled in my balls already, and my cock throbbed to the beat of my erratic heart. She put her hands on my shoulders, pushed on them as she lifted her legs to wrap them around me. Held close like this, with her pressed to the tree, I could ram harder, faster. 
It wasn’t long before the tingle of orgasm tickled the base of my cock. I stared at her, into the eyes of the vixen who had lured me into her den once more. And she had lured me. This was her fault, shoving that piece of fruit into her cunt knowing I’d been watching. Her fault for telling me how she’d cuffed Ollie up for days. Her fault for encouraging Catherine to allow me to do whatever I wanted, when all along it was clear Catherine wasn’t quite up to the job.
“This is all your fault, you know that?” I grunted out as I bashed into her. “You’re a fucking bitch, Zara.” I stopped talking to get a hold on my breathing, pressing my hands to the tree above her head. “A beautiful, sex-hungry fucking bitch.”
“And you’re a sex-hungry fucking Master,” she said, eyeballing me right back.
That word again, that damn word. I came, spurting everything I had in me, hot and gushing, us still staring at each other. What could have been a smile briefly touched her lips, and when the second shot sped out of me, I couldn’t look into her eyes anymore. I buried my head in the crook of her neck, breathed in the scent of her, licked her soft skin then bit down, wanting to mark this bloody whore so the world knew she was mine. I pumped on. A third and fourth jet, shorter but so intense they had my knees buckling, and I shifted my face across to bite a wad of her dress instead, the cords in my neck straining along with my thigh muscles.
I was spent, empty, and more satisfied than I’d been in a long time.


Tuscany
I hope you enjoyed and if you did click on the covers below to buy from Amazon US or head to Amazon UK.





And if you want more gossip about Sexy as Hell then check out the FREE Harlem Dae magazine full of inside information about the characters and the authors.





Thanks so much for joining in the fun at Smut Alfresco, don't forget to leave a comment to be in with a chance to win some of those great prizes!

A Story That Even Shocked the Writer by Lucy Felthouse

Please welcome the lovely Lucy Felthouse to my blog today, take it away Lucy...


My novella, Testing Tom, is a femdom erotic romance. It’s the story of professional Dominatrix, Katrina, and her ex, Tom. A while ago, he left her for a vanilla chick, devastating her. So when he comes crawling back, begging for forgiveness, she simply can’t bring herself to welcome him back with open arms. How does she know he won’t get scared of the BDSM lifestyle once more and leave her again? She decides to set him a series of tasks to test his devotion to her. Only if he passes will she consider taking him back.
I didn’t plan the novella before I wrote it (I rarely do), so the tasks just flowed onto the page as I got to writing them. As a result, I managed to shock myself with some of the things I put Tom through. I’m not going to give anything away by telling you, but let’s just say things started off fairly easily for the wayward submissive and got to the stage where I was sitting, open-mouthed and staring at the computer screen, hardly able to believe the words that were appearing on them. There’s a seriously scary sense of humour going on there, and I’m not sure if it was mine, or Katrina’s. Or somewhere in between. Either way, it was a tad scary to see what sort of thing my imagination can produce. I just hope readers find it as fun to read as I did to write. And hot, of course.Thanks so much for stopping by! Don’t forget to scroll down, add the book to your Goodreads shelves and enter the awesome giveaway.
*****
When Katrina’s ex, Tom, turns up on her doorstep, he’s literally the last person she was expecting to see. After dumping her and running off with a vanilla chick, Tom broke the Domme’s heart and left her seriously hurting. So when he returns, begging for another chance, Katrina is understandably very confused and protective of her bruised feelings. She finds it very difficult to believe that he’s turned his back on a vanilla lifestyle for good and wants to be with her, a professional dominatrix. Rather than letting her head or her heart figure out what to do, whether to forgive him, she decides to put Tom through a series of challenges that will prove his devotion to her—or not. Testing Tom is not something she’d ever expected she’d have to do, but to her, it’s the only way she can be sure whether he’s back for good.
More info, excerpt and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/testing-tom/Add to Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18147133-testing-tom
*****
Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and 2013, and Best Women's Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9
*****




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Sexy as Hell - Location, Location, Location! #newrelease #kindle #erotica #bdsm

Just out, Sexy as Hell, a new BDSM trilogy to light your fire! I say light your fire because although for us in the UK at the moment we're sweltering under a heatwave, Sexy as Hell is actually set in a wintery London to begin with, it then moves on to Tuscany in the New Year and then Venice.I've co-written these novels with Natalie Dae and we've published under the name Harlem Dae. When we first started on book #1 The Virgin, it was a few weeks before Christmas so I guess that is why the book took this wintery slant. We were full of thoughts of sleet hitting the windows and a chill wind stinging our cheeks, also the first pretty lights of Christmas twinkling in the evenings.
Tuscany came next in book #2 The Player and since we were starting to long for some sunshine we used this picture as inspiration for the location our characters Victor and Zara visited.
We loved the isolation and the grandeur of this villa, it offered loads of potential for all the naughty kinky things our characters could get up to! And let's just say, they certainly make the most of it.Finally we headed to Venice for #3 The Vixen. I've been there once, loved it, and my visit was also out of season, which meant it wasn't too busy, nor too hot (or smelly from what I've been told) and Mr H and I had a wonderful time strolling down all the narrow alleys, sampling the local dishes and mooching in and out of small boutique shops.
In Sexy as Hell Venice proves to be a very healing place, here's a short extract, Victor and Zara are just heading back from a masked BDSM ball -
The driver held out his hand. I didn’t take it; instead, I let Victor support my elbow and together we stepped onto the slightly unstable deck and sat on the soft leather seat that spanned the stern. Victor slipped off his jacket and laid it around my shoulders. I didn’t bother to protest, letting his body heat infuse into me and his faded aftershave fill my nose. He pulled me close and gave a quick instruction in Italian to the driver.The boat hummed to life, a front light flicked on, and we pulled away from the mooring into the still water on a purring glide. Venice was eerie this time of the night. The grandeur and gaiety of the day had been switched to a ghostly, almost surreal scene, one you couldn’t run from because of the canals and warren of alleys, all of which led to more cold, murky water.A bluish mist hovered all around, and we seemed to sit within it, as though we had become part of the vapour. Our headlight sliced a path ahead but it was a smoky illumination, unhelpful, and if anything it added to the spooky thoughts I was having about lurking spirits below the surface with reaching, stretching hands searching for something to grip.I shuddered. Victor noticed and held me tighter, his fingertips squeezing into my upper arm and his thigh pressing into mine.Stately buildings loomed over us, tall and dark, their eyes shut for the night. What was going on behind those shuttered windows? Pain and pleasure-play? Were memories being purged all over Venice? Was it a city of rebirth?As we passed a church, angels, standing like weeping widows, bent their heads over praying hands and stared into the blackness beneath them. I could make out their stone toes, peeping from their heavy, sculpted gowns. I wriggled my own toes, cold now, and wondered if those angels had ever had anyone pass them by who was as fucked up as me. Sure, they’d been there hundreds of years, but still, I really was a seriously messed-up case.“You’re quiet,” Victor said, a huff of air billowing from his mouth and adding to the damp mist surrounding us.“Just taking it in.”“Do you like Venice at night?” he asked.“It’s creepy.”“I agree. Without human noise, just the slosh of the water on the foundations of the houses, it really does feel deathly still.” He kissed my temple, my cheek and then my ear. “I’ll be glad when we’re warm and cosy in bed.”“Me too.”
BUYAmazon US Amazon UKThanks for reading and do spread the word about Sexy as Hell, plus why not head over to our website and read the Sexy as Hell Magazine and learn about the secondary character spin-off stories coming soon!Lily x

The Virgin - FREE BDSM Novel #freekindle #freeebook #freebie

THE VIRGIN is book #1 in the Sexy as Hell Trilogy written by myself and Natalie Dae and published under the name Harlem Dae. To celebrate the release of these three erotic BDSM stories we are giving away the first book, The Virgin, for free on Amazon, be quick though the 29th of July is the last day!

Blurb for The Virgin

London – one meeting, one month of lessons and a landslide of depraved new desires.
My journey to Hell started with a decaff coffee. Nothing more than a grey mug full of dull-brown liquid devoid of its most useful ingredient.
One sip, one smile, one touch of her hand and it was soon clear my life wasn’t destined to stay dull. Oh, no, suddenly I had a month of bedroom education planned by a sultry vixen who intended to broaden my horizons beyond my usual peach-pink palette. 
She wanted to take me to deep purples and navy blues and the pitch blackness that was pure sin. And on the other side of that blackness was a place that might look like Hell, with debauchery and wantonness, people playing devil’s advocate, luring innocents into the hotter, steamier corners of the world.
Her world.
Oh, yes, she promised each night to take me there and paint me an orange-and-red picture that would come alive, flickering like flames, enticing me, holding me spellbound and eager to learn more. To touch, explore, drown in coming.
And drown I would. I was no match for her tricks and taunts. My only chance of survival was to show her that I was no vanilla virgin. I had a rainbow of mastery up my sleeve, too, and if she just opened her eyes, she might be dazzled enough to stay—stay and take ‘my’ lessons. If she didn’t kill me first, that was, with pleasure.

Amazon US        Amazon UK
If you fancy the other books in the series here they are, click on the covers for Amazon US. Also available from every other Amazon around the world including UK.



This trilogy is already set to rival all others!

And don't forget about the Sexy as Hell magazine, full of gossip about the characters and the authors!

Sunday Snog - The Virgin is Free! #freekindle #freeebook #erotica

Big welcome to Sunday Snog, my favourite smooching day of the week! Today, a special treat for you all because not only a lip-smacking moment but a FREE BDSM novel, yes that's right! To celebrate the release of the Sexy as Hell Trilogy - co-written with Natalie Dae and published under the name Harlem Dae - we're giving away the first, super-erotic novel in the series, The Virgin.

So, to whet you're appetite for the delectable Victor, here's some oral action taken from the end of Chapter Two...




Light suddenly blazed through the window as the automatic curtains pulled back. I blinked, turning to look at Victor to see his reaction to the room ahead.He darted forward in his seat, peering as though unable to believe his eyes. I knew what he was looking at, knew the layout like the back of my hand. Black walls, black floor, a somewhat out-of-place chandelier sparkling from the ceiling. Row upon row of toys hanging from hooks on the wall opposite, the metal of some twinkling. And Julie standing in the centre, naked except for a pair of shiny red thigh-high boots, her back to us. She was Barbie doll perfection, long, wavy blonde hair, and slender legs. Victor blinked. I looked through the window. Julie reached up and gathered her abundant mane in one hand, securing it into a knot with a scrunchie. Victor gasped. “Her skin...”“Pretty, isn’t it?” I looked at him.“No, no it isn’t. Where the hell did she get those scars?”“You’ll see. But if you meet her, never tell her you think those scars are ugly. To her they’re beautiful. A part of her. A very important part. There’s a lot you won’t understand this month, a lot you’ll think is wrong, Victor, but you must always bear in mind it isn’t wrong to those who are doing it.” “But she’s been hurt!” “Yes, she has.” I didn’t offer any more information. Sometimes it took seeing something before you could believe things weren’t as bad as they seemed. That what you saw wasn’t the first impression you’d got. I was going to open this man’s eyes so wide he’d think his pretty eyeballs were going to pop. Julie stepped forward and took a whip from one of the hooks. She moved a few feet in reverse so she was once again in the centre of the room. With a flick of her wrist she tested the whip against her booted leg, the sound of it hitting the leather filtering through the slim slats built into the top of the window. In my peripheral, I caught sight of Victor jumping, balling his hands into fists in his lap. I imagined his heart rate speeding, him not knowing what she was about to do, rolling information around in his mind with regards to her scars. They criss- crossed her back, some creamy and raised, old, others light pink, and others still red from a more recent whipping. She wore them as her armour, a badge displayed proudly, for they represented who she was, who she was finally allowed to be. Herself. I didn’t expect Victor to understand. Not many people did, I’d found. Julie drew the whip up in front of her, and its tail sliced across her shoulders. Victor let out an “Oh, shit!” but didn’t look away. Julie whipped on, one lash following the other with incredible speed, no long gaps in between strikes, no chance for a breather. This was how she liked it, hard and fast, and, like she’d said, if no one had the bottle to strike her in the way she liked it done, she’d do it to herself. “Oh, God,” Victor breathed. “What is she doing?” “Pleasuring herself,” I said, shifting slightly so I could look at him. Tonight his expression fascinated me more than Julie’s show. “That isn’t normal,” he said. “Sorry, but it isn’t.” “Not normal to you, maybe, but very normal to her. She loves it. You wait. She’ll come like a train in a minute.” “How can you come from that?” he asked, moving his head as though to turn to me but failing to pull his gaze from her. “How can that be nice, make you feel nice?”“Have you ever tried it?” I asked, knowing full well he hadn’t. If he’d had to ask me such a thing, he didn’t understand. “No, and I don’t bloody intend to either.” He rested into the chair then crossed his arms over his chest. Defence mechanism. A way to distance himself from what he was seeing. Julie groaned, whipping on, frenzied in her attack. She turned then, continuing to whip, and stared directly at our window. Clips adorned her nipples, joined by a silver chain. She lifted it and draped it behind her bottom teeth, then closed her mouth. “What the hell?” Victor said quietly. Eyes closing, Julie flagellated with one hand and cupped her sex with the other. Moaning, she used her thumb and pinky to spread her wet slit wide, then dipped her middle three fingers into her hole. She fucked herself, body jolting from each strike and more than a little pleasure she was unleashing down there. Legs widening, she withdrew her fingers and circled her clit, vigorous movements that had her hips lifting and her back arching. Her change in position meant the chain raised her breasts, each nipple distended, elongated. She trembled from the force of her whip. I glanced across at Victor. He was breathing heavily, and sweat had broken out at his temples. He still had his hands fisted, and I noted a severe blush on his cheeks. And I noticed something else too. “Quite a bulge you have going on there,” I said. For all his bluster on this being wrong, he was turned on. Some part of his brain recognised that Julie was getting off on the pain. “I can’t...can’t help it,” he whispered. “She’s just so violent, so...into what she’s doing. Look at her nipples. She’s tugging them so hard. Christ...” “She won’t last long now,” I said, still watching Victor. I knew Julie’s performance off by heart. Once she turned, once she put that chain in her mouth, she was almost there. Julie wailed out the beginning of her release. The long, drawn-out yell combined with the crack of the whip was undeniably arousing. I was wet and I needed to touch. I reached across and deftly pulled down Victor’s zip. Freed him and enclosed my hand around his hardness. I pumped his fat length, manoeuvring onto my knees so I could lean over the arms of our chairs. He didn’t protest, but lifted his hips as though silently offering his cock to find a home in my mouth. I sucked him in, and with three suctioned pulls I had him coming. Wet heat flooded my mouth, and I swallowed just in time for the next shot. He gripped my hair, grabbed the chair arm with his other hand, and gave a hoarse cry. Victor, the man who might have thought he knew it all, was only just seeing the tip of the iceberg.



Grab your FREE copy of The Virgin from Amazon US or Amazon UK or whichever Amazon around the world you prefer, but be quick, the first part of Victor and Zara's story is free for a few days only!

Also please LIKE the Harlem Dae Facebook page and make sure you check out the Sexy as Hell Magazine for all the juicy inside information about the characters and the authors.

Weekend Writing Warriors #WeWrWa #Sundaysnippet

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors, I do hope everyone is over 18 today as I'm giving away an 18+ BDSM novel called The Virgin for FREE. Here are 8 lines from the first chapter, written from Zara's point of view, Victor has just lost a bet...

“Well, it’s the dress itself. I mean, who wears this kind of get-up?” Again, I wondered what he was seeing when he looked at me. Some slut?“I do. And…” Releasing my hair, I swivelled to face him, ensuring there was adequate space between us. “I do believe you’ve lost already.”He narrowed his eyes. “Pardon?”“You said you know everything, yes?”“I…”“Yet you don’t know who wears this kind of get-up.”He closed his eyes for a moment. His long lashes almost rested on his cheeks. “Damn.”

Grab your copy from Amazon US or Amazon UK. The other books in the series, The Player and The Vixen are also available for your enjoyment. More details on the Harlem Dae website.

Weekend Writing Warriors

Saturday Spankings #SatSpanks

FREE novel for all you spanker lovers today, and what's more it's a BDSM story with tons of spanking with hands and paddles and whips and... the list goes on, oh yes, this will really light your fire!


The Virgin is the first in the Sexy as Hell series that I've written with Natalie Dae and published under the name Harlem Dae. You can find out more about our writing together on the Harlem Dae website.
So first things first, here is the spank... Zara has taken Victor to watch a sex show, and is giving him a good paddle and a hand-job while he's watching the strange Harlequin act through the window of their small viewing room. This particular chapter is written from Zara's point of view, and believe me, it starts off hot and it just gets hotter!
“Oh, God,” Victor groaned.
“That’s it,” I said, “come, come for me now and take all this pain with you.”
But he didn’t come, he just kept on taking the slaps as The Harlequin stood, removed the costume and raised the snake in the air.
“She’s a fucking man!” Victor said, dropping his hands and stepping backwards. “Jesus Christ, a man with tits like that. And what the hell just happened, he came with the snake around his cock, fucking hell, too bloody freaky…”
“Yeah, but look at your dick.” I chucked the paddle onto the chair, gripped his chin and harnessed his attention. “He turned you on. Did you ever think a spank and a bloke would get the great Victor Partridge just about coming all over the wall in a sex den?”
He gripped my wrists, hard, yanked them upwards, towards his chest. My whole body jerked into his, our chests colliding.
A wild, feral flash seared over his white-hot eyes as he forced me backwards, up against the wall, his movements swift and strong.
Finally, I could see what I’d been searching for.



Grab your copy of The Virgin from Amazon US or Amazon UK (or whichever other Amazon serves you around the world) and then once you've immersed yourself in Victor and Zara's world, look out for the other two novels, already available for your enjoyment - it is advised that these stories are read in order to fully appreciate the characters and plot.



About the trilogy...


Sexy as Hell: 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.

FREE BDSM novel - The Virgin by Harlem Dae

THE VIRGIN is book #1 in the Sexy as Hell Trilogy written by myself and Natalie Dae and published under the name Harlem Dae. To celebrate the release of these three erotic BDSM stories we are giving away the first book, The Virgin, for FREE on Amazon.

Blurb

London – one meeting, one month of lessons and a landslide of depraved new desires.
My journey to Hell started with a decaff coffee. Nothing more than a grey mug full of dull-brown liquid devoid of its most useful ingredient.
One sip, one smile, one touch of her hand and it was soon clear my life wasn’t destined to stay dull. Oh, no, suddenly I had a month of bedroom education planned by a sultry vixen who intended to broaden my horizons beyond my usual peach-pink palette. 
She wanted to take me to deep purples and navy blues and the pitch blackness that was pure sin. And on the other side of that blackness was a place that might look like Hell, with debauchery and wantonness, people playing devil’s advocate, luring innocents into the hotter, steamier corners of the world.
Her world.
Oh, yes, she promised each night to take me there and paint me an orange-and-red picture that would come alive, flickering like flames, enticing me, holding me spellbound and eager to learn more. To touch, explore, drown in coming.
And drown I would. I was no match for her tricks and taunts. My only chance of survival was to show her that I was no vanilla virgin. I had a rainbow of mastery up my sleeve, too, and if she just opened her eyes, she might be dazzled enough to stay—stay and take ‘my’ lessons. If she didn’t kill me first, that was, with pleasure.


Amazon US        Amazon UK
If you fancy the other books in the series here they are, click on the covers for Amazon US. Also available on every other Amazon around the world including UK.



This trilogy is already set to rival all others!

First Chapter of The Virgin #excerpt #erotica #bdsm

The Virgin, Book #1 in the Sexy as Hell Trilogy will be FREE between the 25th and 29th of July on Amazon, but if you just can't wait to meet Victor and Zara read the first chapter today on D Renee Bagby's First Chapter Blog!