Lily Harlem's Blog, page 263
December 18, 2012
Winter Newsletter
My winter newsletter is now available on my website.
Click gorgeous Francis Cura below to catch up on all that I've been doing lately. And before you ask, yes, he's the yummy guy from several of my book covers, including Cold Nights, Hot Bodies, Anything for Him and Good Cop, Bad Cop - I suppose you could say I have a little 'thing' going on for him! But hey, what's not to love?
Click gorgeous Francis Cura below to catch up on all that I've been doing lately. And before you ask, yes, he's the yummy guy from several of my book covers, including Cold Nights, Hot Bodies, Anything for Him and Good Cop, Bad Cop - I suppose you could say I have a little 'thing' going on for him! But hey, what's not to love?
December 16, 2012
Twelve Books of Christmas
Thanks so much for stopping by the Twelve Books of Christmas Blog Hop and a big thank you to the wonderful Tory Richards for organising the event.
Join in the fun to be in with a chance to win a 12 ebook package, including my Christmas novel, Cold Nights, Hot Bodies, and a fabulous gift basket from Swiss Colony!! WOW!
All you have to do is answer the question below and leave the answer and your email addy in the comment box. Then visit all the other hosts and do the same to be in with a chance to win the grand prize. Winner will be drawn on the 22nd of Dec and announced on Tory's blog.
Question - What fictional character would you most like to kiss under the mistletoe this year?
After you've left your comment follow these links list to visit the other authors participating...
Tory Richards
Cris Anson
Fiona McGier
Sandra Sookoo
Naomi Bellina
Vonnie Davis
Karen Stivali
Lynne Marshall
Cynthia Arsuga
Taryn Elliot
Karenna Colcroft
Good luck :-)
Lily x
All my life I’ve been the quiet bookworm, the office mouse. It hasn’t bothered me. Immersing myself in erotic novels has kept me wriggling on the edge of my seat at work and firmly entrenched in my own fantasy world at night.
Though one thing is bothering me—my damn virginity. If only I could find a sexy bedroom expert to introduce me to the delights of having a lover. Someone handsome and charming, who can rival the hunky alpha males in my books. I have a very vivid, very well-fed imagination—he’ll have to keep up.
Then, one bitterly cold night, thanks to a devious, conniving, so-called friend, the perfect opportunity to rid myself of this pesky virginity problem comes along. Before I know it, the heroes in my novels have come alive in the person of Shane Galloway, who’s pleasuring me with every trick in the book and wheedling into my heart in the hottest ways possible.
Ellora's Cave
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Guilty Pleasures
Please join me at Guilty Pleasures where I'm chatting about my winter wardrobe, and giving away a copy of Teamwork!
Blurb
Book four in the Hot Ice series. (May be enjoyed as a stand alone read.)
What I know about hockey could fit on the back of a stamp. So my latest patient may be one of the NHL’s hottest defensemen, but I’m not exactly blown away by his stardom. Add in the fact that he’s a surly, growling grump, and I’m more than happy to work my magic on his battered body and then hot-foot to my date with his teammate, Todd “Pretty” Carty.
Todd is sex on a stick, a slice of man heaven and I want a bit of the action, preferably of the bedroom variety. But when Raven emerges from his bad mood and throws his energy into blowing my mind with just one kiss, I find my head spinning and my libido raging.
What I didn’t bargain on is these hard-training, hard-playing hockey players working as efficiently off the ice as on it when it comes to getting results. But who am I to complain when satisfaction is their ultimate goal?
Reader Advisory: Contains m/f/m. Go on, you know you want to indulge!
Candy Canes and Coal Dust
This seasonal menage tale was the first single author book I ever had published. Thank goodness for Total-E-Bound who took a chance on a new author and set me on this crazy, wonderful journey of writing!!
A Finnish skiing holiday is the perfect winter wonderland for Bridget to escape her ex at Christmas time - beautifully decked trees, roaring log fires and plenty of mulled wine. What she doesn't count on, however, is a very erotic, very dirty dream on the plane from London to Levi - three perfect lovers all indulging her every whim and desire, how could she not moan and groan and beg for more?
But every dream must end, and as Bridget wakes, with toe curling embarrassment, she realises every passenger on the plane has heard her frantic orgasm...including the gorgeous Irish guy sitting to her left!
Excerpt
Meltingly soft reindeer fur tickled Bridget’s naked behind. She squirmed in delight, closed her eyes and nestled deeper into the rug. Beside her, a huge log fire crackled. It heated her skin, danced through her hair and filled the room with the tangy scent of pine needles.
Letting out a contented sigh, she offered no resistance as the hot young man—who had no name, just a perfect, angled face—pushed her thighs apart, clamped them in place with big, determined hands and began to lap at the soft folds of her pussy. Blood pooled in her pelvis and she bowed her spine towards his mouth in time with his glorious rotations around her clit and the rhythmic pumping of his two longest fingers.
Above her, another man—same angled face and mop of blonde Nordic hair—offered his long, swollen cock for her to suck. Eagerly she parted her lips, flattened her tongue into a bed of moisture and pulled him in. A groan erupted from his mouth and a long, low rumble came down her nose. His hands clasped over her ears as he began to thrust in and out, over and over, the speed and tempo building with each plunge. The sound of pulsing blood rushed through her ears, whooshing and beating—it roared like a jet engine travelling at full throttle.
She tasted the salty tang of precum and knew he was close, his desperation peaking like her own as the expert attentions at her sex continued.
But this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
Without having to voice her desires, the two men flipped her onto all fours. The fur was soft on her knee caps and smooth under her palms. Before she knew what was happening, Guy Number One had settled beneath her and was guiding her down onto his enormous, erect penis.
Bridget dropped until she was filled to capacity then clenched him with eager muscles, drawing him in, higher and higher. She began to move, rocking as he gripped her hips with urgent hands and encouraging her movements. Her clit rubbed against his soft, straw-coloured pubes and she felt the delicious tug of orgasm once again.
But it still wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
She murmured and pushed tails of damp hair from her face, “More, more...please, more.”
Guy Number Two moved in behind her and his hands smoothed over the orbs of her butt cheeks. The roar was still thundering through her ears, deafening and invading her thoughts, but she dismissed the unfamiliar noise—sensation was all she was interested in.
An inquisitive finger delved down the crack of her buttocks and pressed at her anus. She gasped as he pushed into her darkest hole, squirming and stretching her as he went.
This was almost what she needed; she was nearly there.
The finger retreated only to be replaced by the thick, smooth head of the penis she’d been sucking until moments ago. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, now...fuck me.” He obliged and squeezed in through the tight band of muscle, slow and steady, right to the hilt. There was no pain, no sharpness, just extreme pleasure. “Oh, that’s so good,” she mumbled curling her fingers into fur. “So...damn...good.”
The two men began to thrust in perfect sync. One in, one out, riding her senses into realms of ecstasy she never thought she’d go. The fire hissed. A log tumbled out. They didn’t notice; they kept on fucking, the men intent on pleasuring her before themselves.
But it still wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
Bridget moved her head, her mouth open and searching. She knew it would be there somewhere—she just had to find it.
Ahh, there it was, another beautiful cock being offered forward on a hand wearing a thick, black ski glove. She glanced up. The owner of the penis wore a reflective, orange ski mask and his mouth was set in a hard line; determined, eager, impatient. But she needed no extra persuasion. This was the icing on the cake, the final piece of her jigsaw.
She leant forward and sucked him in greedily, eating him up like a starving woman. She rolled his glans around her tongue then thrust him against the back of her throat. He hissed like a punctured tyre and began to time his rhythm with the other two cocks invading her body.
Bridget whimpered in delight and gave control over to her three expert lovers. Now she could indulge in an orgasm. This was how it was supposed to be, every hole filled, every carnal desire indulged at the same time. Her womb and anus were being pounded into, sublime cocks sweeping past every nerve ending. Her mouth was absorbing the heat and lust of the sexy man looming over her. He clasped her head between his gloved hands. The roaring in her ears reached a crescendo as she climbed the ladder to satisfaction, letting her clit lead the way.
Suddenly she was there, suspended in a moment of sheer bliss, the glorious anticipation of magnificent contractions and spasms within reach. She sucked harder, groaned and moaned, pushed backwards into the cocks fucking and buggering her. Then it consumed her; washed through her, wave after wave of hammering delight.
“You want more?” the guy with the ski goggles asked in his husked, unfamiliar accent.
Bridget nodded around his cock—she wanted this to carry on forever. Please let this never stop.
“Would you like some mortar?” he said again.
Bridget nodded, letting her womb spasm around the cocks buried so deeply within her. “Are you alright, would you like some water?” A female voice interrupted the guy with the ski goggles.
Bridget felt a soft hand rest on her forearm.
The roar in her ears was so loud it was disorientating and confusing. But it wasn’t being caused by a set of hands covering her ears any more. In fact, there was no set of hands covering her ears.
“Madam, is there anything I can get you?”
Bridget kept her eyes shut as the cocks disappeared from her body and her beautiful Finnish lovers evaporated into thin air. This couldn’t be happening. She was still dreaming, surely she was still immersed in fantasy. How could fantasy switch to a nightmare so damn quickly?
“Madam.” The soft voice said again, this time it was accompanied by an insistent shake of Bridget’s forearm. “Madam.”
Bridget forced open her eyes to the harsh, artificial light of the plane. She gulped. It was as bad as she feared. This was her reality, not a powder-soft rug in front of a perfect log fire with three beautiful men indulging her every fantasy. Reality was sitting on a plane, on Christmas Eve, travelling to Finland for a solo skiing holiday.
She looked into the pale blue eyes of the young airhostess. There was a flicker of concern in their depths, but the main emotion was pity. In that instant, in that split unguarded second, those eyes told Bridget she’d made all the noises associated with her dream. Every grunt, groan, moan and murmur for more had spilt treacherously from her lips.
She swallowed tightly, her mouth bone dry with toe curling embarrassment. She reached for the offered glass of water. “Thanks,” she squeaked, lifting the cup to her lips. She took a sip and squirmed on the prickly material of seat thirty two C. She could still feel the blood raging through her pelvis, the adrenaline of the dreamy orgasm still heightening all her senses and making her breaths shallow. If only that had been reality and not this, if only she’d really been with three perfect lovers, instead of sitting alone, with a redundant sex life and no hope of its re-activation any time soon.
Feeling a flush of mortification sweep across her chest, up her neck and over her cheeks, she glanced across the narrow aisle—a sea of curious faces were fixed her way. Some looked greatly amused, others concerned, and a few appeared plain old shocked. Bridget tried a half smile but it came out more of a grimace and did nothing to relieve the indignity of having had a wet dream in front of a group of total strangers.
Oh, why had she fallen asleep on the plane? It wasn’t as though it was a long flight from London to Levi. Why couldn’t she have just read a book, or listened to her MP3 like normal people do? She wasn’t one to hope for turbulence, but at this moment, a pocket of unstable air to send them all plummeting several thousand feet would serve her very well.
She prepared to take a sideways peek at the guy sitting in thirty-two B. When he’d sat down, she’d thought he was cute, just her type, tall and slim, with mussed up black curls and a face that looked more than ready to be inappropriately cheeky. She’d hoped they’d spark a conversation, but immediately after take off, he’d plugged in earphones and started watching a war film. It was his fault, she decided irritably. If he hadn’t been watching the film, they would have conversed, maybe even flirted, and she wouldn’t have fallen asleep at all.
She turned and found his pot-hole black eyes sparkling with curiosity. He tipped his head and tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth. His left eyebrow rose, creasing his forehead into three neat lines. The minute their eyes met, Bridget knew he had, like everyone else within ten feet, guessed the explicit content of her dream.
* * * * *
I hope you enjoyed that sexy snippet. As you might have guessed though, gorgeous Irish guy is all about making dreams come true!!!
Buy Links
Total-E-Bound
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Have a great day
Lily x
A Finnish skiing holiday is the perfect winter wonderland for Bridget to escape her ex at Christmas time - beautifully decked trees, roaring log fires and plenty of mulled wine. What she doesn't count on, however, is a very erotic, very dirty dream on the plane from London to Levi - three perfect lovers all indulging her every whim and desire, how could she not moan and groan and beg for more?
But every dream must end, and as Bridget wakes, with toe curling embarrassment, she realises every passenger on the plane has heard her frantic orgasm...including the gorgeous Irish guy sitting to her left!
Excerpt
Meltingly soft reindeer fur tickled Bridget’s naked behind. She squirmed in delight, closed her eyes and nestled deeper into the rug. Beside her, a huge log fire crackled. It heated her skin, danced through her hair and filled the room with the tangy scent of pine needles.
Letting out a contented sigh, she offered no resistance as the hot young man—who had no name, just a perfect, angled face—pushed her thighs apart, clamped them in place with big, determined hands and began to lap at the soft folds of her pussy. Blood pooled in her pelvis and she bowed her spine towards his mouth in time with his glorious rotations around her clit and the rhythmic pumping of his two longest fingers.
Above her, another man—same angled face and mop of blonde Nordic hair—offered his long, swollen cock for her to suck. Eagerly she parted her lips, flattened her tongue into a bed of moisture and pulled him in. A groan erupted from his mouth and a long, low rumble came down her nose. His hands clasped over her ears as he began to thrust in and out, over and over, the speed and tempo building with each plunge. The sound of pulsing blood rushed through her ears, whooshing and beating—it roared like a jet engine travelling at full throttle.
She tasted the salty tang of precum and knew he was close, his desperation peaking like her own as the expert attentions at her sex continued.
But this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
Without having to voice her desires, the two men flipped her onto all fours. The fur was soft on her knee caps and smooth under her palms. Before she knew what was happening, Guy Number One had settled beneath her and was guiding her down onto his enormous, erect penis.
Bridget dropped until she was filled to capacity then clenched him with eager muscles, drawing him in, higher and higher. She began to move, rocking as he gripped her hips with urgent hands and encouraging her movements. Her clit rubbed against his soft, straw-coloured pubes and she felt the delicious tug of orgasm once again.
But it still wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
She murmured and pushed tails of damp hair from her face, “More, more...please, more.”
Guy Number Two moved in behind her and his hands smoothed over the orbs of her butt cheeks. The roar was still thundering through her ears, deafening and invading her thoughts, but she dismissed the unfamiliar noise—sensation was all she was interested in.
An inquisitive finger delved down the crack of her buttocks and pressed at her anus. She gasped as he pushed into her darkest hole, squirming and stretching her as he went.
This was almost what she needed; she was nearly there.
The finger retreated only to be replaced by the thick, smooth head of the penis she’d been sucking until moments ago. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, now...fuck me.” He obliged and squeezed in through the tight band of muscle, slow and steady, right to the hilt. There was no pain, no sharpness, just extreme pleasure. “Oh, that’s so good,” she mumbled curling her fingers into fur. “So...damn...good.”
The two men began to thrust in perfect sync. One in, one out, riding her senses into realms of ecstasy she never thought she’d go. The fire hissed. A log tumbled out. They didn’t notice; they kept on fucking, the men intent on pleasuring her before themselves.
But it still wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
Bridget moved her head, her mouth open and searching. She knew it would be there somewhere—she just had to find it.
Ahh, there it was, another beautiful cock being offered forward on a hand wearing a thick, black ski glove. She glanced up. The owner of the penis wore a reflective, orange ski mask and his mouth was set in a hard line; determined, eager, impatient. But she needed no extra persuasion. This was the icing on the cake, the final piece of her jigsaw.
She leant forward and sucked him in greedily, eating him up like a starving woman. She rolled his glans around her tongue then thrust him against the back of her throat. He hissed like a punctured tyre and began to time his rhythm with the other two cocks invading her body.
Bridget whimpered in delight and gave control over to her three expert lovers. Now she could indulge in an orgasm. This was how it was supposed to be, every hole filled, every carnal desire indulged at the same time. Her womb and anus were being pounded into, sublime cocks sweeping past every nerve ending. Her mouth was absorbing the heat and lust of the sexy man looming over her. He clasped her head between his gloved hands. The roaring in her ears reached a crescendo as she climbed the ladder to satisfaction, letting her clit lead the way.
Suddenly she was there, suspended in a moment of sheer bliss, the glorious anticipation of magnificent contractions and spasms within reach. She sucked harder, groaned and moaned, pushed backwards into the cocks fucking and buggering her. Then it consumed her; washed through her, wave after wave of hammering delight.
“You want more?” the guy with the ski goggles asked in his husked, unfamiliar accent.
Bridget nodded around his cock—she wanted this to carry on forever. Please let this never stop.
“Would you like some mortar?” he said again.
Bridget nodded, letting her womb spasm around the cocks buried so deeply within her. “Are you alright, would you like some water?” A female voice interrupted the guy with the ski goggles.
Bridget felt a soft hand rest on her forearm.
The roar in her ears was so loud it was disorientating and confusing. But it wasn’t being caused by a set of hands covering her ears any more. In fact, there was no set of hands covering her ears.
“Madam, is there anything I can get you?”
Bridget kept her eyes shut as the cocks disappeared from her body and her beautiful Finnish lovers evaporated into thin air. This couldn’t be happening. She was still dreaming, surely she was still immersed in fantasy. How could fantasy switch to a nightmare so damn quickly?
“Madam.” The soft voice said again, this time it was accompanied by an insistent shake of Bridget’s forearm. “Madam.”
Bridget forced open her eyes to the harsh, artificial light of the plane. She gulped. It was as bad as she feared. This was her reality, not a powder-soft rug in front of a perfect log fire with three beautiful men indulging her every fantasy. Reality was sitting on a plane, on Christmas Eve, travelling to Finland for a solo skiing holiday.
She looked into the pale blue eyes of the young airhostess. There was a flicker of concern in their depths, but the main emotion was pity. In that instant, in that split unguarded second, those eyes told Bridget she’d made all the noises associated with her dream. Every grunt, groan, moan and murmur for more had spilt treacherously from her lips.
She swallowed tightly, her mouth bone dry with toe curling embarrassment. She reached for the offered glass of water. “Thanks,” she squeaked, lifting the cup to her lips. She took a sip and squirmed on the prickly material of seat thirty two C. She could still feel the blood raging through her pelvis, the adrenaline of the dreamy orgasm still heightening all her senses and making her breaths shallow. If only that had been reality and not this, if only she’d really been with three perfect lovers, instead of sitting alone, with a redundant sex life and no hope of its re-activation any time soon.
Feeling a flush of mortification sweep across her chest, up her neck and over her cheeks, she glanced across the narrow aisle—a sea of curious faces were fixed her way. Some looked greatly amused, others concerned, and a few appeared plain old shocked. Bridget tried a half smile but it came out more of a grimace and did nothing to relieve the indignity of having had a wet dream in front of a group of total strangers.
Oh, why had she fallen asleep on the plane? It wasn’t as though it was a long flight from London to Levi. Why couldn’t she have just read a book, or listened to her MP3 like normal people do? She wasn’t one to hope for turbulence, but at this moment, a pocket of unstable air to send them all plummeting several thousand feet would serve her very well.
She prepared to take a sideways peek at the guy sitting in thirty-two B. When he’d sat down, she’d thought he was cute, just her type, tall and slim, with mussed up black curls and a face that looked more than ready to be inappropriately cheeky. She’d hoped they’d spark a conversation, but immediately after take off, he’d plugged in earphones and started watching a war film. It was his fault, she decided irritably. If he hadn’t been watching the film, they would have conversed, maybe even flirted, and she wouldn’t have fallen asleep at all.
She turned and found his pot-hole black eyes sparkling with curiosity. He tipped his head and tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth. His left eyebrow rose, creasing his forehead into three neat lines. The minute their eyes met, Bridget knew he had, like everyone else within ten feet, guessed the explicit content of her dream.
* * * * *
I hope you enjoyed that sexy snippet. As you might have guessed though, gorgeous Irish guy is all about making dreams come true!!!
Buy Links
Total-E-Bound
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Have a great day
Lily x
December 14, 2012
Erotic Romance for your Man!!
With the gift season approaching how about getting your man something raunchy for his e-reader? Ellora's Cave have a new range of books especially aimed at men, and you'll be spoilt for choice.
These stories are written from the male point of view and range from sweet and sexy to downright raunchy, what they all do is focus on the sex more than the romance. Yes, there is plenty of love and respect to go around, but the plots are more 'action' focused and designed to get your man hot-under-the collar and ready for bedroom business!
DESSERTby Lily Harlem
Nyotaimori was new for me, eating my dinner off a beautiful naked woman an experience I’d never been lucky enough to indulge in. So when a customer treated me to a meal at The Geisha Plate it was an effort to keep my cock under control and my focus on the food. Damn, it had been a while!
But control myself I did—until, that is, the spice levels cranked to boiling point and dessert turned out to be a mind-blowing, soul-twistingly delicious blowjob. I instantly craved more.
Plus I’m not a guy who likes debt. I had to return the favor by hook or by crook; it was an urge that threatened to consume me. Luckily my lovely Geisha girl turned out to be the sweetest woman I’d ever had the pleasure of pleasuring, and her healthy appetite for getting raw and naked with me for starters, main course and dessert turned out to be a wild ride for my every fantasy, and enough to keep me more than satisfied in every department.
Ellora's Cave
Amazon US
Amazon UK
A TASTE OF LONDON by Lucy Felthouse
Ryan Stonebridge and his friend Kristian Hurst are heading off on the trip of a lifetime. They’re spending their gap year traveling the world and expect lots of sun, sights and sex. The guys have a couple of days in the English capital before catching the Eurostar to Paris. Unfortunately, a family emergency means that Kristian has to head back home for a while, leaving Ryan to continue the trip alone.
Luckily for Ryan, he’s an attractive guy and there is no shortage of gorgeous women available to help take his mind off Kristian’s family drama.
Ellora's Cave
Amazon US
Amazon UK
BIRTHDAY BOYBy Cassandra Carr
Johnny Quinn’s not thrilled about creeping ever closer to forty, and the loud, thumping bass in the dance club his girlfriend Steffi has dragged him to on his birthday isn’t helping. Then she makes a bold suggestion. She wants to have sex in the middle of the club. After picking his jaw up from the floor, Johnny agrees. But that’s not all—Steffi’s got more sexy surprises in store. Johnny’s not sure any birthday could top this year’s, and he’s left wondering what Steffi will do to make him an even happier birthday boy next year.
Ellora's Cave
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Want to buy him a whole library of inspiration? Click below and check out the entire EC for Men collection. Have fun!!
These stories are written from the male point of view and range from sweet and sexy to downright raunchy, what they all do is focus on the sex more than the romance. Yes, there is plenty of love and respect to go around, but the plots are more 'action' focused and designed to get your man hot-under-the collar and ready for bedroom business!
DESSERTby Lily Harlem
Nyotaimori was new for me, eating my dinner off a beautiful naked woman an experience I’d never been lucky enough to indulge in. So when a customer treated me to a meal at The Geisha Plate it was an effort to keep my cock under control and my focus on the food. Damn, it had been a while!
But control myself I did—until, that is, the spice levels cranked to boiling point and dessert turned out to be a mind-blowing, soul-twistingly delicious blowjob. I instantly craved more.
Plus I’m not a guy who likes debt. I had to return the favor by hook or by crook; it was an urge that threatened to consume me. Luckily my lovely Geisha girl turned out to be the sweetest woman I’d ever had the pleasure of pleasuring, and her healthy appetite for getting raw and naked with me for starters, main course and dessert turned out to be a wild ride for my every fantasy, and enough to keep me more than satisfied in every department.
Ellora's Cave
Amazon US
Amazon UK
A TASTE OF LONDON by Lucy Felthouse
Ryan Stonebridge and his friend Kristian Hurst are heading off on the trip of a lifetime. They’re spending their gap year traveling the world and expect lots of sun, sights and sex. The guys have a couple of days in the English capital before catching the Eurostar to Paris. Unfortunately, a family emergency means that Kristian has to head back home for a while, leaving Ryan to continue the trip alone.
Luckily for Ryan, he’s an attractive guy and there is no shortage of gorgeous women available to help take his mind off Kristian’s family drama.
Ellora's Cave
Amazon US
Amazon UK
BIRTHDAY BOYBy Cassandra Carr
Johnny Quinn’s not thrilled about creeping ever closer to forty, and the loud, thumping bass in the dance club his girlfriend Steffi has dragged him to on his birthday isn’t helping. Then she makes a bold suggestion. She wants to have sex in the middle of the club. After picking his jaw up from the floor, Johnny agrees. But that’s not all—Steffi’s got more sexy surprises in store. Johnny’s not sure any birthday could top this year’s, and he’s left wondering what Steffi will do to make him an even happier birthday boy next year.
Ellora's Cave
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Want to buy him a whole library of inspiration? Click below and check out the entire EC for Men collection. Have fun!!
Greetings!
If you are here for the Purrrfectly Giftastic Christmas Blog Hop, click below to zip straight there, or scroll down the page to take a longer ride!
Teamwork - first chapter
What I know about hockey could fit on the back of a stamp. So my latest patient may be one of the NHL’s hottest defensemen, but I’m not exactly blown away by his stardom. Add in the fact that he’s a surly, growling grump, and I’m more than happy to work my magic on his battered body then hot-foot to my date with his teammate, Todd “Pretty” Carty.
Todd is sex on a stick, a slice of man heaven, and I want a bit of the action, preferably of the bedroom variety. But when Raven emerges from his bad mood and throws his energy into blowing my mind with just one kiss, I find my head spinning and my libido raging.
What I didn’t bargain on is these hard-training, hard-playing hockey players working as efficiently off the ice as on when it comes to getting results. But who am I to complain when satisfaction is their ultimate goal?
Head on over to D Renne Bagby's first chapter blog and enjoy the entire first chapter of Teamwork for FREE!
Purrrfectly Giftastic Christmas Blog Hop
A huge welcome to everyone who is joining me on the Purrfectly Giftastic Christmas Blog Hop. Since we are deep into the delicious season of mistletoe, I thought I’d ponder the lovely pastime of kissing. Not just a peck on the cheek kiss, no, but those lovely, deep, sensual mating of mouths between lovers - or potential lovers.
Kissing is so physically romantic and I adore writing the kissing scenes into my books. The characters kiss because they are ridiculously attracted to one another and are compelled to satisfy a hunger which is as natural as the need for food.
I hope my readers enjoy the kissing action too, especially the first kiss after the build-up of sexual tension. I like to write in first person so I can give a really detailed perspective of what it is like to kiss that hot, but bad, hockey player, or the kinky control freak neurosurgeon or sexy fireman in a turmoil about his sexuality. (Hired, Shared, The Glass Knot!)
Olden day scientists believed that lovers found kissing pleasurable because when the two lips met an electric current was generated. Of course we now know this to be completely untrue but studies have shown that when two people embrace and kiss, hormones are released into the blood stream which immediately induces a sense of euphoria when you feed on the sweetness of your partner’s mouth.
But not all kisses are happy events. Works of literature like "Romeo and Juliet" have portrayed kisses as dangerous or deadly when shared between the wrong people. Some folklorists and literary critics view vampirism as symbolic of the physical and emotional dangers that can come from kissing the wrong person.
Even so anthropologists report that 90 percent of the people in the world kiss. Most people look forward to their first romantic kiss and remember it for the rest of their lives. Parents kiss children, worshippers kiss religious artifacts and couples kiss each other. Some people even kiss the ground when they get off an airplane!
Fast kissing facts -
The science of kissing is called philematology.
A one-minute kiss burns 26 calories measuring energy-producing potential of food.
Kissing releases the same neurotransmitters (chemical messengers in the brain) as intense exercise, like parachuting or distance running. The heart beats faster and breathing becomes deep and irregular.
Saliva crawls with microscopic bacteria (single-cell organisms) that enter from air, food, and dirty hands. Between 10 million and 1 billion colonies (groups of bacteria) are swapped with each smooch! But saliva also contains antibacterial chemicals that kill most bacteria before the germs are exchanged in a kiss – Phew!!!
A simple pucker uses two muscles, the upper and lower orbicularis otis surrounding the lips. A passionate kiss uses all 34 facial muscles.
Until the 1400s, kissing under mistletoe was a big commitment. Such kisses often meant that a couple was engaged.
The Romans even came up with three different categories for kissing: Osculum was a kiss on the cheek. Basium was a kiss on the lips. Savolium was a deep kiss
A Light Hearted Look At Bad Kisses.
The Roto Rooter: Their tongue ventures so far down your throat that it actually begins to choke you.
The Rooster: They begin to kiss you, then suddenly pull way . . .lean forward, then draw back!
The Swordfish: They operate their tongue much like a swordfish uses it's snout, in a blunt and violent manner.
The Grouper: As they kiss you, their lips (which could require their own zip code) completely engulf yours.
The Deep Sea Diver: They rarely come up for air.
The Lizard: Their tongue darts in and out of your mouth like a reptile probing for its next victim.
Frozen in Time: They never change the position, posture or angle of their head. It is as if they have mastered kissing cryogenics.
The Squid: They seem to excrete an awful flavor. All you can think of is how to slip them a breath mint.
The Wrecking Ball: They kiss like a battering ram. Whoa, look out, here they come again!
I hope you don’t encounter these types of scary smackers under the mistletoe and instead may all your kisses be delicious, perfect, sensual, erotic and sweet forever more.
If you enjoy Pinterest, I have a whole board dedicated to the art of kissing. Click the hottie below to enjoy.
And if you want a seasonal ménage to dip into check out my novella Candy Canes and Coal Dust.
I also have a full length Christmas novel, Cold Nights, Hot Bodies, packed with kisses and romance and a little sprinkle of kink if that takes your fancy.
Thanks so much for hopping by, leave a comment telling me who you would most like to kiss under the mistletoe this year, and I will pick a name at random on Christmas eve to win a Lily Harlem book of their choice. Don't forget to leave your email address.
Lily x
Oh, for those of you who enjoy my Hot Ice series - the fourth book is just out. Teamwork. All these books are stand alone reads, they don't have to be read in order. So, if having two very talented, super gorgeous hockey players servicing your every need takes your fancy, then you're good to go on Teamwork!
Blurb for Teamwork
What I know about hockey could fit on the back of a stamp. So my latest patient may be one of the NHL’s hottest defensemen, but I’m not exactly blown away by his stardom. Add in the fact that he’s a surly, growling grump, and I’m more than happy to work my magic on his battered body and then hot-foot to my date with his teammate, Todd “Pretty” Carty.
Todd is sex on a stick, a slice of man heaven and I want a bit of the action, preferably of the bedroom variety. But when Raven emerges from his bad mood and throws his energy into blowing my mind with just one kiss, I find my head spinning and my libido raging.
What I didn’t bargain on is these hard-training, hard-playing hockey players working as efficiently off the ice as on it when it comes to getting results. But who am I to complain when satisfaction is their ultimate goal?
Ellora's Cave
Amazon US
Amazon UK
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December 12, 2012
Anything for Him - Coming Soon
I have teamed up once again with my wonderful partner in all things naughty writing, Natalie Dae. Our book ANYTHING FOR HIM is to be published by Mischief at Harper Collins and is out on the 20th of Dec, just in time for Christmas stockings!!
Just how far will one woman go to fulfil her fantasies?
I prefer to chase the news, not be the news. But when the delectable Liuz, with his uncannily accurate perception of my secret desires weaved its way into my life, it wasn’t long before I was in way too deep, submerged and intoxicated with a passion I was afraid was more than I could handle.
Or was it? Because although my heart was overwhelmed with feelings I had no resistance against, and while my deceitful body was consumed by a burning passion, I still had a plan. A plan I prayed would keep me afloat as I was pushed to the very edge of my limits, while the journey got tougher than even my wildest flights of fantasy could have imagined.
I claimed him and I felt that he was rightfully mine. My heart simply couldn’t beat without a permanent connection between our hearts, minds and bodies. Losing was not an option, not when my sanity depended on winning him.
Because I would, quite literally, do anything for him.
Meet Luiz Biros, he's Polish, living in London and involved in some decidedly dodgy dealings. He's also a master at persuading Hannah to confess all of her deepest darkest desires. But can he live up to his word? Will he give her the seedy, dirty sexual experience she craves? Or will it all crumble around their feet?
The above picture was inspiration for the beginning of the book...
Chapter One
I stared at the photograph he’d emailed me. He’d promised he would and, finally, it had arrived. It wasn’t what I’d expected; not that I thought for a minute he’d send me a copy of his passport photo; but this, this had really taken me by surprise. The odd angle of the camera lens and the overwhelming suggestiveness shocked me. It was deeply personal, completely voyeuristic and undoubtedly the most erotic image I had ever laid eyes on. But it gave nothing away of the face I longed to see; yet, it told me so much about the man I’d been obsessing about for weeks. I reached over and clicked the printer to life. As it clanked through the setting-up motions, I leaned closer to my computer screen and allowed him to fill my vision. His long, pale, black-hair-coated shin was in the forefront of the picture. The knee flopped wantonly towards the camera, making the patella the largest thing in the frame. His foot was out of shot. Beyond his leg, I could make out the right side of his torso – just – a small amount of lean waist, a hint at a taut set of ribs and a balled shoulder leading to what looked like a busy hand. I say busy, because he appeared to be jerking off, but of course, that could just be my filthy imagination. His head was thrown back, his chin jutted upwards, his prominent Adam’s apple in profile against the bottle-green wall behind him. Other than his chin, not one facial feature could be identified, but what I saw of his chin, chiselled and dented at the centre, led me to believe the rest of his face would be angular and long. Seedy shadows doused the whole image, the covers on the bed dusky green, almost brown, and the lighting, maybe shining through a cheap drawn curtain, was dim. He seemed completely uninhibited despite the camera, which I guessed was on a timer. I gulped down a bite of bile as a sudden wave of regret at the photo I’d sent him rolled through me. I’d thought I was being sassy, original, beating him at his own game. But it was clear now that I played with someone who knew how to think out of the box, stay a step ahead, out-manoeuvre me without even needing to try. The printer creaked to readiness and I hit the print button. I had to have his image in my hands, laser scanned, details ripe for scrutiny. As it whirred and heaved and slowly spat out the paper, I paced my office-cum-artist studio, frantically scratching the tops of my arms with my nails. Damn that picture of my right areola. Not that it was a bad areola or a bad picture, it wasn’t. I was perfectly pert and the pixel count excellent. I had even rubbed an ice cube around my tight nub, before pulling it to a painful point, then, as a final creative flair, shined a spotlight on it. The dark room and bright light had made my wet skin golden, my nipple a rosy pink. The round-tipped point was blood-filled, the flesh leading to it wrinkled in an ordered, twisted way, as it strained to seek out more stimulation. Damn that picture. His wasn’t exactly classy, but it was artistic, unique, risqué. Mine was just a token rude shot, though at least I’d resisted a shot of my newly shaved pussy. I would be in cringing hell right now if I’d followed through with that plan. The next question was, of course, would we meet? We’d had a deal – if we liked the look of one another we would make arrangements for a date, a face-to-face encounter. Although, judging by the dirty routes our conversations had taken lately, I reckoned there would be considerably more than just our faces meeting. At least that was what I hoped. So, my answer to ‘should we meet’ was a happy-dancing ‘yes’, my panties wet just from the sight of that bony shin and jauntily jutted head. The image of him alone, masturbating, thinking of me, possibly, had me so turned on my clit bobbed and my nipples were as tight as when they’d been treated to that ice cube. But what about him? Would he think me unimaginative, boring, dull? The trouble was with Liuz, he was so articulate, so self-assured, and despite his first language being Polish, his mastery of English was excellent. Not that mine isn’t too. I’m a journalist, studied at Canterbury, and I’m also an artist, but somehow he always seemed to second guess what I was saying, or going to say, in my emails. I held the newly printed-out photo in the air, the paper warm on my fingertips. I enjoyed having it A4 size, and peered closely. I could make out the dark shafts of his leg hairs winding out of his skin, the creases on the sheet below his body wrinkled like ripples in water. Perhaps, also, I could make out a burn of black-fuzzed hair coming down in front of his ear, but I couldn’t be sure. It could be more of the stubble that coated his neck. After retrieving a couple of drawing pins from a purple, sparkly pot on my desk, I hung Liuz’s image on my pin board, right in front of my desk. Where I could gorge on it; for when I looked at him, a fraction of the need, the burning want inside me, was sated. Taking a deep breath, I did what I had to do next – check my in-box. We’re in the same time zone now that I’m back from my business trip to the United States, so he could have possibly seen it already. Plus, as a general rule he was at his computer. I wasn’t sure exactly what he did, but he worked from home. Marketing he’d said, something about buying and selling stock. In-box. One new message. From him. I sucked in a breath and opened it. Those few seconds it took to process were absolute agony. ‘Your picture arrived.’ A rippling tightness in my guts had my belly tensing. Did he like it? Did he think I’d cheated by sending him so little to go on when he’d offered up so much? Given me such an honest picture that showed him vulnerable, a label I never would have given Liuz. Quickly, I typed a response. Typical me, I avoided the pressing point. ‘So did yours.’ ‘And what did you think?’ ‘I think you look like you are enjoying yourself.’ ‘Mmm, enjoying or just taking care of an urge? A necessary task, if you like.’ ‘So which was it?’ ‘Which would you rather it was?’ I hesitated for a moment, then decided to risk a knock-back. ‘I hope you were enjoying yourself. I hope you were thinking of me, imagining you were fucking me.’ I hit send and waited for a response. Nothing. One minute stretched into two. I stood and flung open the window to the autumn morning. Immediately, sounds of the city filtered up. Car horns, bus engines, the shouts of the workmen several buildings down. Another message. About bloody time. ‘I was thinking of you, but not about fucking you.’ ‘What then?’ ‘Ah, that’s for me to know and you to find out, Aniolku.’ I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth in frustration. He often did this, refused to answer something or turned it around on me. Also, if he knew he was playing coy, or being shifty, he’d nearly always add on ‘Aniolku’ at the end. I’d asked him what it meant a few weeks ago. He’d told me it was ‘angel’ in Polish. I’d laughed and said that surely by now he knew I was no angel. His reply was that was what made it such a perfect endearment for me. ‘Is that your bedroom?’ I asked, desperate to know more about the picture, and in turn, learn more about Liuz. ‘No, it’s my mate’s bedsit.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Yeah, really.’ ‘Did he take the picture?’ ‘LOL, no, I was alone there. He just happens to have a nice camera.’ ‘Wouldn’t he mind you spunking out on his sheets?’ ‘I’m a big boy, I can control where I come. I’ve also heard of tissues.’ A rise of heat flushed over my chest, and I squirmed on the seat. Just the image of long, pearly jets of cum, spurting out onto that lean torso and dribbling into dark body hair, turned me on ridiculously. I could only imagine how his groans of pleasure would sound, how ragged his breaths would become, and what his sex-sweat would smell like, taste like. I wanted to know all of these things for real. I wanted to know every tiny morsel of information about Liuz more than anything else I’d ever wanted to know. There was an extended pause, then he typed, ‘Yours didn’t reveal much.’ ‘I thought the idea was not to give too much away.’ ‘You mean you were playing a game with me, and here was I thinking that we were just swapping honest photos of one another.’ ‘Yours is hardly a mantelpiece portrait.’ ‘Depends what else is on the mantelpiece.’ An image of his home came to my mind, created entirely in my imagination. He’d told me nothing other than that he lived in a mate’s bedsit in Brixton. Sharing or not, I wasn’t sure. But now, after seeing the photograph of his friend’s place, I visualised something painted in muted colours; moss green and muddy-puddle brown. Sparsely furnished with daylight penetrating curtains, bare bulbs. I don’t know why, but this image thrilled me so much more than the thought of a living space neat and ordered, pristine and thought-out. Liuz spent his time immersed in his work, head in his computer – well, either his work or indulging in teasing, flirting and sometimes downright rude talk with me – so I imagined his place would be functional rather than decorative. ‘OK, I should have given you more to go on,’ I typed back. ‘No worries, you have a nice tit. I can tell it would be a good handful and your nipple is perfectly suckable.’ I read that last line twice, and my areolas tingled deliciously at the thought of his mouth on me. Blood rushed to my entire breast, and my nipples pressed into my thin cotton bra. I circled my right nipple, the one on the photograph, over my clothes and allowed the stiffening sensation to bloom. ‘Would you like that?’ he replied before I could respond to his last email. ‘Yes.’ ‘What else would you like, Aniolku?’ ‘What else would you do?’ ‘You mean after I curled my tongue around your nipples, stroked my hands over your breasts and fed you deep into my mouth, pulling you in, devouring you, making you moan for more?’ ‘Yes, what else would you do?’ I had my hand inside my bra now, plucking and pulling at my nipple. I wished it was his hot mouth, hard and urgent, not gentle – rough and demanding was what I wanted, what I yearned for. ‘What would you want me to do?’ he asked. Damn him always throwing questions back at me. I closed my eyes. I had to write something. I knew him well enough by now to know he wouldn’t respond until I did. Once again an image flooded my mind. It was a lewd, sordid image of me, on my knees. A threadbare carpet beneath me and a bare light bulb above. I was naked, naked and submissive. Before me stood Liuz, tall, lean, golden-skinned, holding his cock towards my face. A beautiful cock, fat and generous in length, the glans engorged and the cleft below the head deep. I could see a drop of pre-cum nestled in the slit, and I could hear him telling me, ‘Lick it off, whore. Lick me, suck me. Do as I say.’ These images were new to me, sinfully wicked, and generated a well of guilt at what they suggested I really wanted, deep in my soul. But I couldn’t ignore them. Something about Liuz and the way he was with me had drawn rank thoughts and lusty needs to the surface; allowed them out to play, if only in my mind. It seemed they had moved in, for a while at least, and I couldn’t ignore them. I settled my fingertips over the keyboard and nibbled on my bottom lip as I wondered what to write. Nothing too crude, but something a little edgy. Eventually I settled on, ‘Next I want you to pretend my mouth is your hand. Do what you did to yourself in the picture.’ ‘You mean jerk into you hard and fast. I don’t wank like a delicate little flower, you know.’ ‘I can imagine.’ ‘I’d back you up against a wall and hold your head tight. Forge in and out without a thought for your breathing. After all, my hand doesn’t need to breathe, does it?’ My heart raced. ‘What else?’ ‘I wouldn’t give a shit about whether or not your gag reflex was killing you. I’d ram down your throat, enjoying the wet tightness. And I’d shout at you too.’ My fingers shook as I typed. ‘What would you shout?’ Lust screeched around my system. ‘That you had to suck harder, open wider, then when I was about to come I would shout at you to swallow, to keep swallowing until I told you to stop. I would keep ramming into you until my bollocks were drained and my cock started to soften.’ I stroked my clit through the gusset of my leggings and gave in to a few deep rotations. I knew I would have to masturbate soon. The need was building, a carnal pressure that would soon require release. One-handedly I replied, ‘OK.’ There was long pause, which allowed me to fret myself to an ass-clenching state of arousal; then he answered, ‘We should definitely meet.’ I’d sneaked my devilish fingers into my panties now, and the glossy pea that was my clitoris took a hard and fast beating. Once again, I typed ‘OK’ then, as I hit send, I arched my back, reared my hips off the seat and allowed a sharp climax to take control. I panted through the waves of pleasure. I squeezed my eyes shut and once again visualised Liuz before me, thrusting his dick into my mouth, over and over and over. Our meeting couldn’t come soon enough.
I hope you enjoyed! Buy links for all major retailers will be available from my blog/website and at Mischief as of 20th December.
Lily x
Ellora's Cave has a fantastic new look!
Ellora's Cave has re-vamped its site and I have to say I'm loving it big time. It's sexy and sultry and so easy to navigate.
What's more, to celebrate their new look, they're giving away some awesome prizes that will certainly get you squealing with excitement. Hit the banner below to find out more.
