Lily Harlem's Blog, page 298
October 10, 2011
J R Loveless
Today I am chatting sexy military boys with J R Loveless.
Come over and say hi and while you are there check out her awesome new release Chasing Seth.
Veterinarian Seth Davies comes to Senaka, Wyoming, looking for peace and anonymity, trying to escape his past. He's always been a target for trouble and pain, and Seth has had more than his share of both. Kasey Whitedove takes one look at Seth and assumes the worst. No white man could love animals the way the mostly Cheyenne population expects, and Kasey makes Seth's first days in Senaka more than unpleasant.
Then an accident puts Kasey in the uncomfortable position of eating crow—and helplessly desiring Seth—despite the danger of Kasey's life as a werewolf and Seth's stressful secrets. Chasing Seth down and keeping him safe from his past has just become Kasey's most important job.
Lily x
Come over and say hi and while you are there check out her awesome new release Chasing Seth.
Veterinarian Seth Davies comes to Senaka, Wyoming, looking for peace and anonymity, trying to escape his past. He's always been a target for trouble and pain, and Seth has had more than his share of both. Kasey Whitedove takes one look at Seth and assumes the worst. No white man could love animals the way the mostly Cheyenne population expects, and Kasey makes Seth's first days in Senaka more than unpleasant.
Then an accident puts Kasey in the uncomfortable position of eating crow—and helplessly desiring Seth—despite the danger of Kasey's life as a werewolf and Seth's stressful secrets. Chasing Seth down and keeping him safe from his past has just become Kasey's most important job.
Lily x
Please welcome Maxim Jakubowski
Maxim Jakubowski is here to share the gossip on his fantastic new novel Ekaterina and the Night.
I have just finished reading Ekaterina and the Night. It is a wonderfully rich tale full of sumptuous scenes and a realism that is enhanced by Maxim's delicious attention to detail. I highly recommend picking yourself up a copy.
Over to Maxim -
GOODBYE MONTANA, HELLO EKATERINA
A decade or so ago, I wrote a novella which I titled THE STATE OF MONTANA over the course of a 2 week break in the Maldives. If that sounds like the perfect waste of a holiday, it wasn't altogether the case. I had promised my then (trusting) publishers a new short novel and somehow the deadline got dangerously close, so I felt that writing the book away from home and all its daily distractions might help. The fact that the book's cover had already been designed and printed before I had even written a single word of the book was incentive enough.
We were on a small island, which you could walk around in under half an hour at the most, there was no TV in our hut or internet connection, just what the doctor ordered! I have always been in the habit of rising early and find working in total isolation from the rest of the household, and outside life, often does the trick. So for the duration of the holiday I would rise at 6 in the morning, work until 10, skip breakfast as I usually do, then join my wife on the beach for a few hours, lunch in the island's communal building, and then devote a further few hours to the book while everyone was having a siesta (it was much too hot to spend too much time outside right then), then beach and swim again in the emerald waters swarming with fish, followed by dinner, and another 2 hours at the keyboard before bed. Most of the other tourists staying on the island during that particular fortnight were German and I knew I had little in common with the majority of them and have never been much of a socialiser anyway.
I completed the book in the departure lounge at the airport, and did all the revisions during the 11 hour flight back to London. I have spent most of my life as a publishing editor and edit as I go along and seldom require second drafts. And met my deadline.
The book appeared to the customary resounding silence erotic novels used to in those days, and promptly sold to France, which was a consolation. It's the story of a married woman in the throes of wanderlust (but then, most of my characters are) who meets men for anonymous sex and then abandons herself to the murky world of internet chat rooms. The short novel does not actually take place in Montana; 'Montana' just happens to be Adrienne's handle when she ventures online. Even though it had not been my principal intention when I had initially thought of the story, in the white heat of my Maldives race against time, the story became a sort of curious variation on STORY ON O set on the internet, leading to a somewhat apocalyptic and soul-revealing section set in New York before turning round full cycle on itself in a seductive post-modern fashion. It's still a book I have much affection for, particularly its female character.
A few weeks prior to the publication of the American edition, the book received a favourable review in either KIRKUS or PUBLISHERS WEEKLY underlining the strength of the eponymous female heroine and, within days, I was getting calls from Los Angeles from production companies enthusiastically enquiring about the film rights, not that any of the callers had yet even read the book and realised it was, in truth, nigh unfilmable, unless it was made as a porno movie. As it was, I was already in negotiation with a French producer representing a well-known French female art film director, who had made a small offer for the rights. I knew the director's films and although she was undoubtedly an expert in the erotic, her treatments were always so cold and intellectual and at the very opposite of my own, that I was surprised by her interest. But, hey, being adapted to the big screen doesn't happen every day! I informed my American callers of the European situation, which only served to make them more eager to sign up the property. To cut a long story short, one of them out of the blue made an offer I just could not refuse and acquired the book's rights, amazingly offering 25 times more than the French had. I later learned this was on behalf of a famous A-list actress, who had just featured, with her then husband, in a lavish big budget art movie which dabbled in the erotic (and in which her sublime backside is liberally on show in the opening sequence...). Maybe she thought this was the time to do something even more daring and my book caught her eye? At any rate, I signed on the dotted line and promptly cashed the obscene check before anyone on the West Coast could change their mind.
Several years went by, during which the novel sold in a variety of other countries where it invariably appeared with a 'Soon to be a Major Movie' strapline. Then I get a phone call from L.A. advising me that the actress in question had decided, having now had her first biological child (her previous ones were adopted), that she would no more accept doing nudity in her movies. Therefore, THE STATE OF MONTANA was no longer to be made as a movie (without nudity, it would have in the best of cases been unlikely to last more than 5 minutes...) and would I be interested in buying the rights back? Needless to say, I decided to keep the money in the bank and leave the project in development hell. Goodbye MONTANA.
As a result of all this, the book has proven to be the most popular and renumerative of my writing career to date. And not a month goes by, inveterate movie fan that I am, that I don't see scenes of the film unfolding inside my head, with N.K. in glorious states of undress and nude close-up... But life goes on, and I kept on alternating writing thrillers and erotic novels, but always at the back of my mind was the thought that THE STATE OF MONTANA deserved a sequel of sorts, not so much using the characters again (as they were now in eternal bondage to a Hollywood contract anyway), another necessarily short book exploring a submissive woman's character and life trajectory, a subject that has fascinated me for years and which I will never tire of examining.
Having, with I WAS WAITING FOR YOU, finally exhausted, for now, the possible adventures of my popular hitwoman cum stripper Cornelia, I knew my next book should be somewhat different and devoid of thriller elements. And, one morning, Ekaterina made her appearance in my murky imagination. She is Italian, despite the name (her parents loved Russian operas...) and the book traces her sexual life over a number of years. It was written over an intensive 2 month period, again in a form of white heat and in my mind, this is the second half of the dyptich I began with MONTANA. Again, it is the portrait of a woman struggling with sex and relationships, and the way the two elements affect her life ; well, to be correct, mainly a liaison with an older man, so while MONTANA was my take on STORY OF O, EKATERINA could in a way be seen as my hommage to LOLITA. But I think there's more to the book than that: there's an important supernatural aspect to it (can't tell you too much about this here without spoiling the fun), there is the magic of Venice in winter, there is love and heartbreak, death and a lot of sex. But then that was a given, wasn't it? And even though an author is the worst possible judge of his own writing, I really think that Ekaterina will become one of my favourite characters. I fell in love with her while the book developed on my inner screen, going in all sorts of directions I hadn't planned, surprising me, shocking me, delighting me.
So, when you open the pages of EKATERINA AND THE NIGHT for the first time, say hello to her for me, will you please?
*****About the book -
Lolita meets Story of O, another memorable tale of love, sex and feelings from 'the King of the erotic thriller'
When Ekaterina meets Alexander a shockingly sexy but tender romance develops.
She is a young Italian trainee journalist, who dreams of wild sexual adventures. He is the older Englishman who she believes can fulfill her fantasies. When Ekaterina is sent to interview the ageing writer Alexander in London, she is blinded by his charm and experience.
Their relationship explodes in a sensual orgy, which defies society's acceptance.
When a mysterious angel of death who calls herself Emma enters their lives, Ekaterina and Alexander know their days together are numbered.
A shocking climax set in Venice in winter brings the three protagonists together.
A tale of sex and tenderness that ranks alongside Jakubowski classic The State of Montana.
*****About Maxim -
MAXIM JAKUBOWSKI worked for many years in book publishing as an editor (including titles by William Golding, Peter Ackroyd, Oliver Stone, Michael Moorcock, Peter Ustinov, Jim Thompson, David Goodis, Paul Ableman, Sophie Grigson, Marc Behm, Cornell Woolrich, etc...) and launched the Murder One Bookshop, which he owned and ran for over 20 years. He now writes, edits and translates full-time in London.
*****
COMMENT TO WIN!
Courtesy of Xcite Books, three lucky winners can get their hands on a copy of Ekaterina and the Night in their choice of paperback or digital format. (International entries welcome)
Simply leave a comment on this post to win. Be sure to check out the rest of the posts in the tour, because the more comments you make, the more chance you have of winning!
Go here to see the blog tour schedule.
PLEASE leave your email address in the body of the comment. No email address = no entry. Winners will be drawn and contacted on the week ending 11th November 2011.
Thanks so much for stopping by.
Lily x
I have just finished reading Ekaterina and the Night. It is a wonderfully rich tale full of sumptuous scenes and a realism that is enhanced by Maxim's delicious attention to detail. I highly recommend picking yourself up a copy.
Over to Maxim - GOODBYE MONTANA, HELLO EKATERINA
A decade or so ago, I wrote a novella which I titled THE STATE OF MONTANA over the course of a 2 week break in the Maldives. If that sounds like the perfect waste of a holiday, it wasn't altogether the case. I had promised my then (trusting) publishers a new short novel and somehow the deadline got dangerously close, so I felt that writing the book away from home and all its daily distractions might help. The fact that the book's cover had already been designed and printed before I had even written a single word of the book was incentive enough.
We were on a small island, which you could walk around in under half an hour at the most, there was no TV in our hut or internet connection, just what the doctor ordered! I have always been in the habit of rising early and find working in total isolation from the rest of the household, and outside life, often does the trick. So for the duration of the holiday I would rise at 6 in the morning, work until 10, skip breakfast as I usually do, then join my wife on the beach for a few hours, lunch in the island's communal building, and then devote a further few hours to the book while everyone was having a siesta (it was much too hot to spend too much time outside right then), then beach and swim again in the emerald waters swarming with fish, followed by dinner, and another 2 hours at the keyboard before bed. Most of the other tourists staying on the island during that particular fortnight were German and I knew I had little in common with the majority of them and have never been much of a socialiser anyway.
I completed the book in the departure lounge at the airport, and did all the revisions during the 11 hour flight back to London. I have spent most of my life as a publishing editor and edit as I go along and seldom require second drafts. And met my deadline.
The book appeared to the customary resounding silence erotic novels used to in those days, and promptly sold to France, which was a consolation. It's the story of a married woman in the throes of wanderlust (but then, most of my characters are) who meets men for anonymous sex and then abandons herself to the murky world of internet chat rooms. The short novel does not actually take place in Montana; 'Montana' just happens to be Adrienne's handle when she ventures online. Even though it had not been my principal intention when I had initially thought of the story, in the white heat of my Maldives race against time, the story became a sort of curious variation on STORY ON O set on the internet, leading to a somewhat apocalyptic and soul-revealing section set in New York before turning round full cycle on itself in a seductive post-modern fashion. It's still a book I have much affection for, particularly its female character.
A few weeks prior to the publication of the American edition, the book received a favourable review in either KIRKUS or PUBLISHERS WEEKLY underlining the strength of the eponymous female heroine and, within days, I was getting calls from Los Angeles from production companies enthusiastically enquiring about the film rights, not that any of the callers had yet even read the book and realised it was, in truth, nigh unfilmable, unless it was made as a porno movie. As it was, I was already in negotiation with a French producer representing a well-known French female art film director, who had made a small offer for the rights. I knew the director's films and although she was undoubtedly an expert in the erotic, her treatments were always so cold and intellectual and at the very opposite of my own, that I was surprised by her interest. But, hey, being adapted to the big screen doesn't happen every day! I informed my American callers of the European situation, which only served to make them more eager to sign up the property. To cut a long story short, one of them out of the blue made an offer I just could not refuse and acquired the book's rights, amazingly offering 25 times more than the French had. I later learned this was on behalf of a famous A-list actress, who had just featured, with her then husband, in a lavish big budget art movie which dabbled in the erotic (and in which her sublime backside is liberally on show in the opening sequence...). Maybe she thought this was the time to do something even more daring and my book caught her eye? At any rate, I signed on the dotted line and promptly cashed the obscene check before anyone on the West Coast could change their mind.
Several years went by, during which the novel sold in a variety of other countries where it invariably appeared with a 'Soon to be a Major Movie' strapline. Then I get a phone call from L.A. advising me that the actress in question had decided, having now had her first biological child (her previous ones were adopted), that she would no more accept doing nudity in her movies. Therefore, THE STATE OF MONTANA was no longer to be made as a movie (without nudity, it would have in the best of cases been unlikely to last more than 5 minutes...) and would I be interested in buying the rights back? Needless to say, I decided to keep the money in the bank and leave the project in development hell. Goodbye MONTANA.
As a result of all this, the book has proven to be the most popular and renumerative of my writing career to date. And not a month goes by, inveterate movie fan that I am, that I don't see scenes of the film unfolding inside my head, with N.K. in glorious states of undress and nude close-up... But life goes on, and I kept on alternating writing thrillers and erotic novels, but always at the back of my mind was the thought that THE STATE OF MONTANA deserved a sequel of sorts, not so much using the characters again (as they were now in eternal bondage to a Hollywood contract anyway), another necessarily short book exploring a submissive woman's character and life trajectory, a subject that has fascinated me for years and which I will never tire of examining.
Having, with I WAS WAITING FOR YOU, finally exhausted, for now, the possible adventures of my popular hitwoman cum stripper Cornelia, I knew my next book should be somewhat different and devoid of thriller elements. And, one morning, Ekaterina made her appearance in my murky imagination. She is Italian, despite the name (her parents loved Russian operas...) and the book traces her sexual life over a number of years. It was written over an intensive 2 month period, again in a form of white heat and in my mind, this is the second half of the dyptich I began with MONTANA. Again, it is the portrait of a woman struggling with sex and relationships, and the way the two elements affect her life ; well, to be correct, mainly a liaison with an older man, so while MONTANA was my take on STORY OF O, EKATERINA could in a way be seen as my hommage to LOLITA. But I think there's more to the book than that: there's an important supernatural aspect to it (can't tell you too much about this here without spoiling the fun), there is the magic of Venice in winter, there is love and heartbreak, death and a lot of sex. But then that was a given, wasn't it? And even though an author is the worst possible judge of his own writing, I really think that Ekaterina will become one of my favourite characters. I fell in love with her while the book developed on my inner screen, going in all sorts of directions I hadn't planned, surprising me, shocking me, delighting me.
So, when you open the pages of EKATERINA AND THE NIGHT for the first time, say hello to her for me, will you please?
*****About the book -
Lolita meets Story of O, another memorable tale of love, sex and feelings from 'the King of the erotic thriller'
When Ekaterina meets Alexander a shockingly sexy but tender romance develops.
She is a young Italian trainee journalist, who dreams of wild sexual adventures. He is the older Englishman who she believes can fulfill her fantasies. When Ekaterina is sent to interview the ageing writer Alexander in London, she is blinded by his charm and experience.
Their relationship explodes in a sensual orgy, which defies society's acceptance.
When a mysterious angel of death who calls herself Emma enters their lives, Ekaterina and Alexander know their days together are numbered.
A shocking climax set in Venice in winter brings the three protagonists together.
A tale of sex and tenderness that ranks alongside Jakubowski classic The State of Montana.
*****About Maxim -
MAXIM JAKUBOWSKI worked for many years in book publishing as an editor (including titles by William Golding, Peter Ackroyd, Oliver Stone, Michael Moorcock, Peter Ustinov, Jim Thompson, David Goodis, Paul Ableman, Sophie Grigson, Marc Behm, Cornell Woolrich, etc...) and launched the Murder One Bookshop, which he owned and ran for over 20 years. He now writes, edits and translates full-time in London.
*****
COMMENT TO WIN!
Courtesy of Xcite Books, three lucky winners can get their hands on a copy of Ekaterina and the Night in their choice of paperback or digital format. (International entries welcome)
Simply leave a comment on this post to win. Be sure to check out the rest of the posts in the tour, because the more comments you make, the more chance you have of winning!
Go here to see the blog tour schedule.
PLEASE leave your email address in the body of the comment. No email address = no entry. Winners will be drawn and contacted on the week ending 11th November 2011.
Thanks so much for stopping by.
Lily x
October 9, 2011
Sunday Snog! - Slap Shot
Hi everyone who has come over from Victoria Blisse's website to enjoy a Sunday Snog.
Here is my Snog taken from Slap Shot.
"In a minute," he murmured. The gentle touch of his finger on my face turned into a palm over my jawline. "Stay with me for a little while longer."
My head tipped to his touch and the hard patches of skin on his hand rubbed my cheek. It only added to the rawness of him, the deep maleness that could never be associated with anything vaguely feminine. "No, I really should go, now."
"But you haven't had dessert." He swept his tongue over his bottom lip.
I mimicked his action, my heart pounding in my chest. "What's dessert?" I asked.
"This." He slanted his head and pressed his lips to mine, his soul patch tickling my chin. I didn't resist, I knew I should, but suddenly every nerve in my body was wide awake with lust. I closed my eyes and put my hand over his large one, which still cupped my cheek. He was so damn good at making me forget I'd said no. Even though I'd told him it was time I went home I wanted him. I wanted him so badly.
What am I doing?
"No," I snapped, pulling away and remembering my vows to myself. "You have to stop, Rick."
He gaze staked mine. "I will if you say 'stop' like you mean it."
"I…I…" The word wouldn't come out, at least not with an iota of conviction.
He grinned, his gaze heavy and full of promise. "But I will stop…eventually," he whispered. His mouth hovered, tempting me with the heat and softness of his lips and his sumptuous flavor.
I leaned into him. His chest brushed my peaked nipples and I caught my breath.
"It's just a kiss, Dana," he breathed. "Just a kiss."
Oh god, but my body needs so much more.
"And it's not like I haven't kissed you before," he went on in a low, murmuring voice. "I like kissing you. You're the sweetest, most delicious thing I've ever tasted."
His lips were a hairsbreadth from mine and each word, each whisper undid my resolve a little more. Weakened me for him.
He threaded his fingers through my damp hair until he cradled my skull. Then he was kissing me again, confidently, expertly. My breasts grew heavy and my nipples tightened further against him. I wanted this. I wanted this heat pumping through my veins, the delicious tug between my legs. It was wrong of me. He was bad for me. But it had been so long since I'd felt anything like this—well, apart from last time I'd been alone with him.
I slid my hand down his corded forearm, which held my head for the kiss. Smoothed over his wet skin, feeling the haze of hairs thinning as I reached his dense biceps. My palm cupped over the hard bulge of muscle and absorbed the solid, tense texture of him.
The kiss deepened, his hand left my hair and stroked over my shoulder. It slipped below the water line and rested on my waist. Just his touch, his flesh on mine was like a match to gasoline, it rushed across my flesh creating a burning desire that was spiraling dangerously out of control.
Who was I kidding? I was already out of control. Pressing up harder against him, I fed back the same hungry kisses he was giving me. Our tongues mated. He was hot and wet and eager, his body a rock beneath the bubbling water.
"You feel good, wild thing," he said, his voice deeper, rougher than before. "So damn good."
Have a great Sunday.
Lily x
Here is my Snog taken from Slap Shot.
"In a minute," he murmured. The gentle touch of his finger on my face turned into a palm over my jawline. "Stay with me for a little while longer."
My head tipped to his touch and the hard patches of skin on his hand rubbed my cheek. It only added to the rawness of him, the deep maleness that could never be associated with anything vaguely feminine. "No, I really should go, now."
"But you haven't had dessert." He swept his tongue over his bottom lip.
I mimicked his action, my heart pounding in my chest. "What's dessert?" I asked.
"This." He slanted his head and pressed his lips to mine, his soul patch tickling my chin. I didn't resist, I knew I should, but suddenly every nerve in my body was wide awake with lust. I closed my eyes and put my hand over his large one, which still cupped my cheek. He was so damn good at making me forget I'd said no. Even though I'd told him it was time I went home I wanted him. I wanted him so badly.
What am I doing?
"No," I snapped, pulling away and remembering my vows to myself. "You have to stop, Rick."
He gaze staked mine. "I will if you say 'stop' like you mean it."
"I…I…" The word wouldn't come out, at least not with an iota of conviction.
He grinned, his gaze heavy and full of promise. "But I will stop…eventually," he whispered. His mouth hovered, tempting me with the heat and softness of his lips and his sumptuous flavor.
I leaned into him. His chest brushed my peaked nipples and I caught my breath.
"It's just a kiss, Dana," he breathed. "Just a kiss."
Oh god, but my body needs so much more.
"And it's not like I haven't kissed you before," he went on in a low, murmuring voice. "I like kissing you. You're the sweetest, most delicious thing I've ever tasted."
His lips were a hairsbreadth from mine and each word, each whisper undid my resolve a little more. Weakened me for him.
He threaded his fingers through my damp hair until he cradled my skull. Then he was kissing me again, confidently, expertly. My breasts grew heavy and my nipples tightened further against him. I wanted this. I wanted this heat pumping through my veins, the delicious tug between my legs. It was wrong of me. He was bad for me. But it had been so long since I'd felt anything like this—well, apart from last time I'd been alone with him.
I slid my hand down his corded forearm, which held my head for the kiss. Smoothed over his wet skin, feeling the haze of hairs thinning as I reached his dense biceps. My palm cupped over the hard bulge of muscle and absorbed the solid, tense texture of him.
The kiss deepened, his hand left my hair and stroked over my shoulder. It slipped below the water line and rested on my waist. Just his touch, his flesh on mine was like a match to gasoline, it rushed across my flesh creating a burning desire that was spiraling dangerously out of control.
Who was I kidding? I was already out of control. Pressing up harder against him, I fed back the same hungry kisses he was giving me. Our tongues mated. He was hot and wet and eager, his body a rock beneath the bubbling water.
"You feel good, wild thing," he said, his voice deeper, rougher than before. "So damn good."
Have a great Sunday.
Lily x
Sunday Snog!
Hi everyone who has come over from Victoria's website.
Here is my Sunday snog taken from Slap Shot.
"In a minute," he murmured. The gentle touch of his finger on my face turned into a palm over my jawline. "Stay with me for a little while longer."
My head tipped to his touch and the hard patches of skin on his hand rubbed my cheek. It only added to the rawness of him, the deep maleness that could never be associated with anything vaguely feminine. "No, I really should go, now."
"But you haven't had dessert." He swept his tongue over his bottom lip.
I mimicked his action, my heart pounding in my chest. "What's dessert?" I asked.
"This." He slanted his head and pressed his lips to mine, his soul patch tickling my chin. I didn't resist, I knew I should, but suddenly every nerve in my body was wide awake with lust. I closed my eyes and put my hand over his large one, which still cupped my cheek. He was so damn good at making me forget I'd said no. Even though I'd told him it was time I went home I wanted him. I wanted him so badly.
What am I doing?
"No," I snapped, pulling away and remembering my vows to myself. "You have to stop, Rick."
He gaze staked mine. "I will if you say 'stop' like you mean it."
"I…I…" The word wouldn't come out, at least not with an iota of conviction.
He grinned, his gaze heavy and full of promise. "But I will stop…eventually," he whispered. His mouth hovered, tempting me with the heat and softness of his lips and his sumptuous flavor.
I leaned into him. His chest brushed my peaked nipples and I caught my breath.
"It's just a kiss, Dana," he breathed. "Just a kiss."
Oh god, but my body needs so much more.
"And it's not like I haven't kissed you before," he went on in a low, murmuring voice. "I like kissing you. You're the sweetest, most delicious thing I've ever tasted."
His lips were a hairsbreadth from mine and each word, each whisper undid my resolve a little more. Weakened me for him.
He threaded his fingers through my damp hair until he cradled my skull. Then he was kissing me again, confidently, expertly. My breasts grew heavy and my nipples tightened further against him. I wanted this. I wanted this heat pumping through my veins, the delicious tug between my legs. It was wrong of me. He was bad for me. But it had been so long since I'd felt anything like this—well, apart from last time I'd been alone with him.
I slid my hand down his corded forearm, which held my head for the kiss. Smoothed over his wet skin, feeling the haze of hairs thinning as I reached his dense biceps. My palm cupped over the hard bulge of muscle and absorbed the solid, tense texture of him.
The kiss deepened, his hand left my hair and stroked over my shoulder. It slipped below the water line and rested on my waist. Just his touch, his flesh on mine was like a match to gasoline, it rushed across my flesh creating a burning desire that was spiraling dangerously out of control.
Who was I kidding? I was already out of control. Pressing up harder against him, I fed back the same hungry kisses he was giving me. Our tongues mated. He was hot and wet and eager, his body a rock beneath the bubbling water.
"You feel good, wild thing," he said, his voice deeper, rougher than before. "So damn good."
Here is my Sunday snog taken from Slap Shot.
"In a minute," he murmured. The gentle touch of his finger on my face turned into a palm over my jawline. "Stay with me for a little while longer."
My head tipped to his touch and the hard patches of skin on his hand rubbed my cheek. It only added to the rawness of him, the deep maleness that could never be associated with anything vaguely feminine. "No, I really should go, now."
"But you haven't had dessert." He swept his tongue over his bottom lip.
I mimicked his action, my heart pounding in my chest. "What's dessert?" I asked.
"This." He slanted his head and pressed his lips to mine, his soul patch tickling my chin. I didn't resist, I knew I should, but suddenly every nerve in my body was wide awake with lust. I closed my eyes and put my hand over his large one, which still cupped my cheek. He was so damn good at making me forget I'd said no. Even though I'd told him it was time I went home I wanted him. I wanted him so badly.
What am I doing?
"No," I snapped, pulling away and remembering my vows to myself. "You have to stop, Rick."
He gaze staked mine. "I will if you say 'stop' like you mean it."
"I…I…" The word wouldn't come out, at least not with an iota of conviction.
He grinned, his gaze heavy and full of promise. "But I will stop…eventually," he whispered. His mouth hovered, tempting me with the heat and softness of his lips and his sumptuous flavor.
I leaned into him. His chest brushed my peaked nipples and I caught my breath.
"It's just a kiss, Dana," he breathed. "Just a kiss."
Oh god, but my body needs so much more.
"And it's not like I haven't kissed you before," he went on in a low, murmuring voice. "I like kissing you. You're the sweetest, most delicious thing I've ever tasted."
His lips were a hairsbreadth from mine and each word, each whisper undid my resolve a little more. Weakened me for him.
He threaded his fingers through my damp hair until he cradled my skull. Then he was kissing me again, confidently, expertly. My breasts grew heavy and my nipples tightened further against him. I wanted this. I wanted this heat pumping through my veins, the delicious tug between my legs. It was wrong of me. He was bad for me. But it had been so long since I'd felt anything like this—well, apart from last time I'd been alone with him.
I slid my hand down his corded forearm, which held my head for the kiss. Smoothed over his wet skin, feeling the haze of hairs thinning as I reached his dense biceps. My palm cupped over the hard bulge of muscle and absorbed the solid, tense texture of him.
The kiss deepened, his hand left my hair and stroked over my shoulder. It slipped below the water line and rested on my waist. Just his touch, his flesh on mine was like a match to gasoline, it rushed across my flesh creating a burning desire that was spiraling dangerously out of control.
Who was I kidding? I was already out of control. Pressing up harder against him, I fed back the same hungry kisses he was giving me. Our tongues mated. He was hot and wet and eager, his body a rock beneath the bubbling water.
"You feel good, wild thing," he said, his voice deeper, rougher than before. "So damn good."
October 8, 2011
Slap Shot review
Just when I thought I wasn't going to get any reviews for Slap Shot a great one turned up yesterday from Siren.
Nikki's review -
"It starts with a cheesy pick up line. No, really, I mean it's very cheesy! But Rick Lewis sets his sights on Dana, and despite her every effort to push him away, he keeps coming back, and showing Dana what she's missing by not dating.
Dana has gotten past her wild days. She's now responsible and free of her past. Maybe something in Rick reminds her of those times she'd rather forget. But Rick makes her feel things she hasn't in a very long time.
Slap Shot is another winner by Lily Harlem. The charismatic characters she creates will sweep readers into a charming, hot romance that won't let go. The third book in the Hot Ice series thrills and excites. The conflict, inner and outer, keeps the tension high as the pages turn.
I have enjoyed this book and I'll tell you, if you love contemporary romance with a lot of hot sex and an all around wonderful story, then get yourself a copy of Slap Shot. Go on, enjoy this!"
Nikki's review -
"It starts with a cheesy pick up line. No, really, I mean it's very cheesy! But Rick Lewis sets his sights on Dana, and despite her every effort to push him away, he keeps coming back, and showing Dana what she's missing by not dating.
Dana has gotten past her wild days. She's now responsible and free of her past. Maybe something in Rick reminds her of those times she'd rather forget. But Rick makes her feel things she hasn't in a very long time.
Slap Shot is another winner by Lily Harlem. The charismatic characters she creates will sweep readers into a charming, hot romance that won't let go. The third book in the Hot Ice series thrills and excites. The conflict, inner and outer, keeps the tension high as the pages turn.
I have enjoyed this book and I'll tell you, if you love contemporary romance with a lot of hot sex and an all around wonderful story, then get yourself a copy of Slap Shot. Go on, enjoy this!"
October 6, 2011
Suit or no suit?
Mmm, both are nice. Do I have to choose?
Lily x
Lily x
October 5, 2011
Thief
Today I am sharing an excerpt from Thief, a full length novel available in e-book and print. This isn't the excerpt I generally use for this book and I hope you enjoy the taste of the characters and plot.
Blurb
Kat uses her female charm and womanly attributes to pinch elite cars for her unscrupulous boss, Carlos. But when John Taylor becomes her latest hit, Kat finds herself at the receiving end of a gentle, expert seduction by a man who's not all he appears.
Despite their night of passion, Kat has no choice but to take John's car—Carlos knows where she lives. What she doesn't bargain on is so does John!
In a week of sex and danger, honesty and kink, the immoral couple become inextricably tangled in one another's lives. Emotions and desires reach boiling point as they push each other to their limits in and out of the bedroom.
Can each handle the other and will they ever be able to trust one another enough to open their hearts?
Excerpt
"Step out," he ordered from his crouched position by her ankles.Obediently, she moved her three-inch heels and let him lift the dress from the floor.He straightened, stepped past her to the sofa and laid it over the arm as if it was the most delicate fabric he'd ever handled. He walked back over and stood directly behind her again.SilenceShe waited.He was so close yet he wasn't touching her. He didn't utter a word. His body heat blasted her bare back and buttocks. The steady stream of his deep breaths washed over her neck and shoulders and tickled like a summer breeze.She went to turn, wanting to see what expression was playing on his rugged features, but the second she started to twist, pressure was applied to her shoulders as he urged her to look at the doorway to the kitchen again—the kitchen where his car keys lay on the counter, waiting for her."You have beautiful skin," he said quietly. "It's flawless—honey and silk."Kat was about to reply when a swarm of butterflies floated down her neck, kisses so delicate she had no choice but to flutter her eyes and mouth shut. She felt the increasing warmth from his body on her naked skin and his deeply male scent surrounded her like a soft cashmere blanket. An involuntary sigh trickled from her lips.His fingertips danced down the bones of her spine until they reached her bra strap. The temperature and pressure increased as he undid the small hooks. Kat felt the full weight of her breasts hang heavy. He glided the straps down her arms and she heard it fall to the floor. She dropped her head. The flesh of her breasts looked translucent, veined under the direct beam of the overhead bulb. Her nipples were milk chocolate circles, every bump and wrinkle exposed as they peaked in the cool night air.A dart of desire shot from her rib wall through the weighty flesh and collected in her nipples as she studied herself. John was back behind her, but she knew it was just looking at herself that was creating the hot circle of sensitivity—she was sure of it. It had nothing to do with him.A stubbly chin scratched gently into her temple. "You okay?" he asked, looking down at her body from the same angle she was."Yes.""Sure?" His hands slid round her waist, big fingers practically meeting over the gentle curve of her belly as his thumbs touched in the dip of her lower back. He rubbed his thumbs up and down, soothing, reassuring, and a well of tension dissolved in the hollow of her spine she hadn't even known was there. She rested backwards onto him. He felt so solid and warm, a gentle giant. Okay, so she was going to steal from him soon, spectacularly, but there was no harm in revelling in the feeling of being looked after, cherished. It was a feeling that rarely came her way."I'm fine," she whispered."Just fine?" He lifted a hand from her waist and let the thick knuckle of his thumb brush her left nipple, just once, very lightly.Instantly the little branch of her areola shot out, straining for another touch, begging for it. The weight in her breasts doubled with an unfamiliar feeling of longing. She wanted him to touch the other nipple, wanted him to cover them both with his big hard hands. Every nerve in her chest was crying out for it."Better than fine…" she managed. She watched, fascinated, as he moved his hand to her right breast and slowly took the nipple between his thumb and index finger. Very gently, he rolled it to a tense point. The skin puckered and strained farther into a slight twist.She sucked in another deep breath. The response her body was having to his touch was electric, like nothing she'd ever felt before. This was no quick drunken grope; this was her body being worshipped, indulged. John's delicate touch was making her knees weak and her stomach clench. She pressed back farther into him, glad of his support as he switched his attentions to her already excited left nipple.She should just get out of the flat; these feelings were getting too intense. This wasn't the plan. Why wasn't he behaving like the other five hits she'd had to sleep with to get their cars? Then it had been 'wham, bam, thank you, ma'am'—all over and done within minutes. A drunken post-coital sleep, and she'd been free to take whatever her light fingers desired.She spun in his arms, an excuse to leave forming in her mouth. "I…I ought to…"His dark brows knitted together."I…I…really should…should…" Kat frowned in frustration at her ineloquence; she never suffered from stuttering or a lack of excuses."What's up?" he asked as he bent an arm over his shoulder, fisted his black T-shirt and scraped it over his head in one smooth movement.It landed on the floor by her bra, instantly forgotten, as were Kat's excuses. The sight of his wide chest, carpeted with dark coils of hair which trailed to the loose waistband of his jeans had her thoughts of running fleeing to the hills.Since her head only reached his chin, she was face to face with glorious maleness, and his musky, slightly salty scent hit her full on. She had a sudden, overwhelming desire to push her straining, hungry nipples into the scratchy hair of his chest. She was desperate to know what it would feel like."Relax," he said, twining his fingers into her hair and cradling the back of her skull with his palm. "It's all good, I promise."Kat placed her palms on his shoulders and leant forward for the kiss he was sending down. Her nipples connected with downy hairs on granite muscle. She gasped in surprise; she'd expected a crispy texture, not silken smoothness.He read her gasp as encouragement and his tongue delved deeper and his hands journeyed to her hips. "Can we lose these?" he asked into her mouth, hooking thumbs into the elastic of her thong as his fingers lingered on her buttocks. "Pretty as they are, I'd rather see what's beneath."Kat spun what he'd said in her mind. She'd been so consumed with the sensations of kissing and his chest connecting with hers she'd barely thought of the next stage. "Er…yeah," she said, taking a small, tottering step backwards.John let his hands fall to his sides, let her move away, but he kept his eyes trained on hers, offering calmness and inviting trust.Kat stood in her heels, hold-up stockings and lacy thong. She looked calm on the outside but inside she was in a state of turmoil. It wasn't the prospect of having sex with John making her feel this way, it was the desires he was invoking in her. Lust was something she'd never experienced in her paltry excuse for a sex life. Sure, she could tempt, seduce, walk the walk, but actually doing the deed and enjoying it was not for her. Kat found the best pleasures were at her own hand; she had control then. She knew where and how she liked to be touched and trusted herself to control a short, hard climax every time.But right now, control was slipping away fast. He wasn't even touching her, just looking. In fact, now he'd sat on the sofa and relaxed back in the cushions with one arm stretched casually sideways and the other resting on his lap. Yet still she felt like he had power over her, even worse, she wanted him to have that power. She wanted to hand herself over to him and trust him to satisfy the tug in her belly. It was an uncharted emotion, and she was unsure how to handle it. She felt both nervous and excited at the prospect of giving her body to John."You want me to do the honours?" he asked quietly, with an amused lift of one thick, black brow.Kat shook her head, dipped her fingers into the elastic at her hips and rolled down the thong. Like string, it peeled down to her knees, and she wriggled and let it drop to the floor around her feet. She stood back up, tall and straight, awaiting his judgement. She swallowed—hard.He let out a long, low whistle as his eyes travelled lower. "That I like," he said, tugging at his bottom lip and his eyelids drooping. "Very pretty."Kat let her hand travel to the bare, hairless lips of her sex. She was freshly waxed, just the way she liked it, not a stray pubic hair in sight. She rubbed indulgently at the sensitive skin. It felt like two plump velvet cushions, neat and ordered."You gonna let me have a feel or is it just for you?" He leant forward with his elbows propped on his knees.Kat kept her fingers hovering over her slit and took three steps up to the sofa. Her knees felt weak and her heels suddenly felt too high, too unbalanced. She focused on his wide shoulders, rock-hard and square, and his biceps, tough balls of raw power. The snake tattoo on his forearm was highlighted in glorious detail under the hot bulb, its yellow eyes flashing and its red fork tongue licking towards his elbow.Once she was within reach, he placed both hands on the top curve of her hips and urged her between his bent knees. He leant forward and very slowly, very gently, placed a soft, warm kiss a fraction below her naval.
BlurbKat uses her female charm and womanly attributes to pinch elite cars for her unscrupulous boss, Carlos. But when John Taylor becomes her latest hit, Kat finds herself at the receiving end of a gentle, expert seduction by a man who's not all he appears.
Despite their night of passion, Kat has no choice but to take John's car—Carlos knows where she lives. What she doesn't bargain on is so does John!
In a week of sex and danger, honesty and kink, the immoral couple become inextricably tangled in one another's lives. Emotions and desires reach boiling point as they push each other to their limits in and out of the bedroom.
Can each handle the other and will they ever be able to trust one another enough to open their hearts?
Excerpt
"Step out," he ordered from his crouched position by her ankles.Obediently, she moved her three-inch heels and let him lift the dress from the floor.He straightened, stepped past her to the sofa and laid it over the arm as if it was the most delicate fabric he'd ever handled. He walked back over and stood directly behind her again.SilenceShe waited.He was so close yet he wasn't touching her. He didn't utter a word. His body heat blasted her bare back and buttocks. The steady stream of his deep breaths washed over her neck and shoulders and tickled like a summer breeze.She went to turn, wanting to see what expression was playing on his rugged features, but the second she started to twist, pressure was applied to her shoulders as he urged her to look at the doorway to the kitchen again—the kitchen where his car keys lay on the counter, waiting for her."You have beautiful skin," he said quietly. "It's flawless—honey and silk."Kat was about to reply when a swarm of butterflies floated down her neck, kisses so delicate she had no choice but to flutter her eyes and mouth shut. She felt the increasing warmth from his body on her naked skin and his deeply male scent surrounded her like a soft cashmere blanket. An involuntary sigh trickled from her lips.His fingertips danced down the bones of her spine until they reached her bra strap. The temperature and pressure increased as he undid the small hooks. Kat felt the full weight of her breasts hang heavy. He glided the straps down her arms and she heard it fall to the floor. She dropped her head. The flesh of her breasts looked translucent, veined under the direct beam of the overhead bulb. Her nipples were milk chocolate circles, every bump and wrinkle exposed as they peaked in the cool night air.A dart of desire shot from her rib wall through the weighty flesh and collected in her nipples as she studied herself. John was back behind her, but she knew it was just looking at herself that was creating the hot circle of sensitivity—she was sure of it. It had nothing to do with him.A stubbly chin scratched gently into her temple. "You okay?" he asked, looking down at her body from the same angle she was."Yes.""Sure?" His hands slid round her waist, big fingers practically meeting over the gentle curve of her belly as his thumbs touched in the dip of her lower back. He rubbed his thumbs up and down, soothing, reassuring, and a well of tension dissolved in the hollow of her spine she hadn't even known was there. She rested backwards onto him. He felt so solid and warm, a gentle giant. Okay, so she was going to steal from him soon, spectacularly, but there was no harm in revelling in the feeling of being looked after, cherished. It was a feeling that rarely came her way."I'm fine," she whispered."Just fine?" He lifted a hand from her waist and let the thick knuckle of his thumb brush her left nipple, just once, very lightly.Instantly the little branch of her areola shot out, straining for another touch, begging for it. The weight in her breasts doubled with an unfamiliar feeling of longing. She wanted him to touch the other nipple, wanted him to cover them both with his big hard hands. Every nerve in her chest was crying out for it."Better than fine…" she managed. She watched, fascinated, as he moved his hand to her right breast and slowly took the nipple between his thumb and index finger. Very gently, he rolled it to a tense point. The skin puckered and strained farther into a slight twist.She sucked in another deep breath. The response her body was having to his touch was electric, like nothing she'd ever felt before. This was no quick drunken grope; this was her body being worshipped, indulged. John's delicate touch was making her knees weak and her stomach clench. She pressed back farther into him, glad of his support as he switched his attentions to her already excited left nipple.She should just get out of the flat; these feelings were getting too intense. This wasn't the plan. Why wasn't he behaving like the other five hits she'd had to sleep with to get their cars? Then it had been 'wham, bam, thank you, ma'am'—all over and done within minutes. A drunken post-coital sleep, and she'd been free to take whatever her light fingers desired.She spun in his arms, an excuse to leave forming in her mouth. "I…I ought to…"His dark brows knitted together."I…I…really should…should…" Kat frowned in frustration at her ineloquence; she never suffered from stuttering or a lack of excuses."What's up?" he asked as he bent an arm over his shoulder, fisted his black T-shirt and scraped it over his head in one smooth movement.It landed on the floor by her bra, instantly forgotten, as were Kat's excuses. The sight of his wide chest, carpeted with dark coils of hair which trailed to the loose waistband of his jeans had her thoughts of running fleeing to the hills.Since her head only reached his chin, she was face to face with glorious maleness, and his musky, slightly salty scent hit her full on. She had a sudden, overwhelming desire to push her straining, hungry nipples into the scratchy hair of his chest. She was desperate to know what it would feel like."Relax," he said, twining his fingers into her hair and cradling the back of her skull with his palm. "It's all good, I promise."Kat placed her palms on his shoulders and leant forward for the kiss he was sending down. Her nipples connected with downy hairs on granite muscle. She gasped in surprise; she'd expected a crispy texture, not silken smoothness.He read her gasp as encouragement and his tongue delved deeper and his hands journeyed to her hips. "Can we lose these?" he asked into her mouth, hooking thumbs into the elastic of her thong as his fingers lingered on her buttocks. "Pretty as they are, I'd rather see what's beneath."Kat spun what he'd said in her mind. She'd been so consumed with the sensations of kissing and his chest connecting with hers she'd barely thought of the next stage. "Er…yeah," she said, taking a small, tottering step backwards.John let his hands fall to his sides, let her move away, but he kept his eyes trained on hers, offering calmness and inviting trust.Kat stood in her heels, hold-up stockings and lacy thong. She looked calm on the outside but inside she was in a state of turmoil. It wasn't the prospect of having sex with John making her feel this way, it was the desires he was invoking in her. Lust was something she'd never experienced in her paltry excuse for a sex life. Sure, she could tempt, seduce, walk the walk, but actually doing the deed and enjoying it was not for her. Kat found the best pleasures were at her own hand; she had control then. She knew where and how she liked to be touched and trusted herself to control a short, hard climax every time.But right now, control was slipping away fast. He wasn't even touching her, just looking. In fact, now he'd sat on the sofa and relaxed back in the cushions with one arm stretched casually sideways and the other resting on his lap. Yet still she felt like he had power over her, even worse, she wanted him to have that power. She wanted to hand herself over to him and trust him to satisfy the tug in her belly. It was an uncharted emotion, and she was unsure how to handle it. She felt both nervous and excited at the prospect of giving her body to John."You want me to do the honours?" he asked quietly, with an amused lift of one thick, black brow.Kat shook her head, dipped her fingers into the elastic at her hips and rolled down the thong. Like string, it peeled down to her knees, and she wriggled and let it drop to the floor around her feet. She stood back up, tall and straight, awaiting his judgement. She swallowed—hard.He let out a long, low whistle as his eyes travelled lower. "That I like," he said, tugging at his bottom lip and his eyelids drooping. "Very pretty."Kat let her hand travel to the bare, hairless lips of her sex. She was freshly waxed, just the way she liked it, not a stray pubic hair in sight. She rubbed indulgently at the sensitive skin. It felt like two plump velvet cushions, neat and ordered."You gonna let me have a feel or is it just for you?" He leant forward with his elbows propped on his knees.Kat kept her fingers hovering over her slit and took three steps up to the sofa. Her knees felt weak and her heels suddenly felt too high, too unbalanced. She focused on his wide shoulders, rock-hard and square, and his biceps, tough balls of raw power. The snake tattoo on his forearm was highlighted in glorious detail under the hot bulb, its yellow eyes flashing and its red fork tongue licking towards his elbow.Once she was within reach, he placed both hands on the top curve of her hips and urged her between his bent knees. He leant forward and very slowly, very gently, placed a soft, warm kiss a fraction below her naval.
October 4, 2011
The Writing Cave
Today I am thrilled to be hunkering down in author Cherie Noel's writing cave. Check out my interview and while you are there have a lurk in the corners and see what Cheri has been writing too.
Also I am thrilled to report Berets and Bras has had its first review.
Miz Love Love Books said this of my short, sexy, military story -
Berets and Bras… I can't say an awful lot because it's a short story and if I discuss the plot it's going to majorly spoil the fun for the reader. Not gonna happen. What Ican say, though, is it's a delightful read that feels much longer than it is. Bloody awesome when that happens. I'd LOVE to read a full-length book about these two.Nudge-nudge-wink-wink.
The voice is fantastic, the setting and what the reader discovers a total blast, and I laughed, smiled and also got hot under the collar. To write such a vivid story in few words must be difficult, but Ms Harlem managed it with flying colours.
An absolute TREAT of a book. Go forth and purchase, readers! Only $1.99!!!
…hits me right in the centre of my back. (Ouch! I felt that!)
"Give me that," I snap.
Not even a small one.
"I thought I was going fucking queer…"
"Or whatever your fucking name is."
Brilliant. That's it in a nutshell.
Also I am thrilled to report Berets and Bras has had its first review.
Miz Love Love Books said this of my short, sexy, military story -
Berets and Bras… I can't say an awful lot because it's a short story and if I discuss the plot it's going to majorly spoil the fun for the reader. Not gonna happen. What Ican say, though, is it's a delightful read that feels much longer than it is. Bloody awesome when that happens. I'd LOVE to read a full-length book about these two.Nudge-nudge-wink-wink.
The voice is fantastic, the setting and what the reader discovers a total blast, and I laughed, smiled and also got hot under the collar. To write such a vivid story in few words must be difficult, but Ms Harlem managed it with flying colours.
An absolute TREAT of a book. Go forth and purchase, readers! Only $1.99!!!
…hits me right in the centre of my back. (Ouch! I felt that!)"Give me that," I snap.
Not even a small one.
"I thought I was going fucking queer…"
"Or whatever your fucking name is."
Brilliant. That's it in a nutshell.
October 3, 2011
Please welcome Victoria Blisse
Today I am thrilled to have fellow author Victoria Blisse visiting my blog.Victoria has a new book out at Total-E-Bound called Tasty Italian and I have been grilling her all about it.
Can you tell us a little about your latest release?
Certainly! Tasty Italian is the story of how Fiona meets Carlo at her local Italian restaurant. She falls instantly in lust with the young, handsome waiter and is taken by surprise when that lust is returned. How can their relationship continue though when Carlo has to go home to his home village back in Italy.
What was the inspiration for this particular piece?
Believe it or not this story originated in a seaside town on the North East Coast of England! When I go to Scarborough in Yorkshire, my favourite town in the whole wide world, one of the places I HAVE to visit is Florio's. Florio's is a brilliant little Italian restaurant that serves the most delicious food.
There also happens to be a rather handsome waiter there but obviously he has no influence on me wanting to go there, no of course not! However he was the inspiration for Carlo in Tasty Italian!
What did you love about writing this book?
I've created a hot Italian waiter, what do you think I enjoyed? Ha. I also loved writing about the food, finding out about Italy and working out how I could get my gal and guy to kiss! It was all round fun.
Was anything especially difficult for you in this story?
Research, I'm not terribly good at it and I had to decide on a town in Italy for Carlo to come from and I had to research what it was like and how easy it was to get to. It was interesting once I got into it but I do find looking something up can be like looking for a needle in a haystack now we've got so much information at our fingertips.
Do you have any routines, quirks, peeves, when writing?
I mainly write in a morning when the house is quiet and I can concentrate also I'm one of these mad morning people and my brain just works better first thing in the morning.
I wonder if I do have any quirks, it's hard to know if you're being quirky in something where you rarely experience another person doing it! So no, I don't think I have any but you might want to ask my husband, he may disagree!
Any guilty pleasures that steal you away from your writing process?
Generally the things that take me away from my writing can't be classified as pleasures but it is no secret that I love to bake and sometimes I do bake when I know I should be writing. I can't resist! When I read a new, tasty sounding recipe I have to give it a try!
Is there anything you find particularly challenging about bringing a story to life?
I find the filling in difficult. You see ideas pop into my head. I'll have a character or two first, then I will work out when/where/how they meet and I'll have ideas for their first kiss and how things will develop from there. However, I won't know precisely the plot from start to finish and the bits I get stuck on will be the bridges between the scenes that I've already imagined in my head.
Who is your favourite character you've written to date and why?
I always find this a difficult question to answer because my characters are almost like children and I love them all very much!
Okay, but just between us, I do have a favourite. He's called Joe and he's a delicious dominant American who will be making his appearance in a Trio of books to be released by Xcite in the near future. I'm afraid I have no more details as I've only just signed the contract. I can tell you that they are Called Naughty, Naughtier and Naughtiest Rendezvous and they contain much romance, generous smatterings of humour and spankings a plenty!
Who is your favourite character, full stop? In anyone's written or unwritten story.
Oh now this is a really cruel question! However I do love Death. No, that's not as morbid as it sounds! I mean the anthropomorphic personification of Death in Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels. I adore him. He's brilliant.
Do you get hot and bothered when writing sex?
Ask my Husband! *wink, wink, nudge nudge*
Mention one element that readers will find in all your books, and why.
Well now, funny you should ask that! There is something very specific that you will find in every single Blisse you read. You will find a curvy, cuddly character. Usually it will be a rubenesque lady but there is a cuddly man in Lyrical, just to change things up a bit!
Why, you ask? Well, I got into this erotica writing biz for a few reasons and one of the major ones is that I'd gotten sick to death of reading about 'perfect' heroines with perfectly perky boobs and slim figures. I wanted to write about people like me. Because ladies with wobbly bits are sexy too!
What will people come away with after reading your books?
Now this is what I'd like to think they'd come away with, whether they do or not is completely out of my hands. I write the words, I can't make people read them in the way I want them too! I hope they will take away that everyone is sexy, that romance isn't always serious, that it can make you laugh too. I hope they will take away the desire to read more Blisse stories too!
What do you come away with after you're finished writing a book?
Short nails and a distinct caffeine buzz? Oh, is that not what you meant? I have a sense of relief, a real, deep contentment (for a few hours anyway) that my story is finally done. It's a really good feeling but I always have a hunger deep inside that pushes me on to write the next story and the next…
What book would you recommend to a new reader that isn't familiar with your work?
I offer you a series! My Getting Together Trilogy, available from Xcite is about as Blisse-typical as you can get. It's romantic, funny and full of hot sex! So start out with Getting Physical and you'll get to know my style pretty well.
What kind of stories do you like to read?
I have a soft spot for fantasy and paranormal as you might have picked up from one of my earlier answers. I'm just enjoying reading Sommer Marsden's Zombie Exterminators series, it's brill!
Are you still as passionate about writing as you were when you first started?
I suspect even more so. Before I wrote because I enjoyed it, now I write because I have to.
What is coming next?
*resists desire to make a dirty comment* Next, ah next we have an Office sex bet which ends up with lots of exhibitionistic goodness between three hot and horny characters of mine. Temporary Insanity is out on the 24th October from Total-E-Bound.
Keep an eye on http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk to find out the release day for Naughty Rendezvous (containing Joe, my favourite character) and then, when we get to December we have something sweet, sexy and Seasonal called It's Always Christmas in Lincoln. So there's plenty still to come from me this year!
Can you share a long term goal with us in relation to your work?
A fantasy of mine revolves around signed copies of my books selling for lots of money on eBay.
Thank you so much for stopping by today and letting me pick your brains about Tasty Italian. Can't wait to settle down with a steamy espresso and my Kindle and lose myself in Carlo.
Lily x
Blurb for Tasty Italian
Fiona was bored with her life but she didn't realise that simply deciding to visit the local Italian restaurant for dinner one night would change it forever. When she laid eyes on the fit, young Italian waiter she fell instantly in lust. Carlo returned that ardour but how could their relationship develop when he had to move back to his home in Italy?
Excerpt From: Tasty Italian
Fiona was knackered after another long day at work. She was hungry, it was late and she didn't want to cook. Her decision made, she walked past her car towards the red, white and green of Roberto's restaurant sign. The beautiful summer's evening and the mellow sunlight made even the urban sprawl of Manchester's city centre seem beautiful and romantic. The hint of pink heralding good weather for the next day brought out the deep rouge of the red bricked buildings that she passed and drew dark swirling patterns on the tarmac below her feet.
From the moment she walked into the restaurant she was enveloped by the warmth of exuberant cooking. She could smell it, almost taste it on the air and could hear the gentle click and clunk of pans being shaken on the hob. She was instantly comforted.
"Ah, mia bella, would you like a table?" a loud voice called and was followed by a striding man. He was round, curly-haired and red-faced. His smile stretched the length of his impressive moustache. Roberto was larger than life and Fiona adored him.
"Ah, Fiona. I have just the perfect table for you, follow me."
She followed him past tables of laughing, joking people to one in the corner, near the kitchen. He placed an open menu in front of her as she sat down.
"What would you like to drink tonight?"
"Just a glass of water, please Roberto."
"No vino? That is criminal on a Friday night."
"I've had a long day and I have to drive home. Water will really hit the spot, thank you."
"Ah, a wise lady, a wise lady indeed. My mama would have loved you."
"Why, thank you." Fiona chuckled.
He always managed to make her smile. She was completely charmed by the effervescent man and the homely interior of the restaurant. There were postcards on the walls, sweet tourist ornaments on shelves and a lovely higgledy-piggledy arrangement to the tables. It was like visiting a favourite family member. She felt comfortable dining there.
"It is busy here tonight, mia bella, but I will have Carlo look after you. He is a good lad."
Can you tell us a little about your latest release?
Certainly! Tasty Italian is the story of how Fiona meets Carlo at her local Italian restaurant. She falls instantly in lust with the young, handsome waiter and is taken by surprise when that lust is returned. How can their relationship continue though when Carlo has to go home to his home village back in Italy.
What was the inspiration for this particular piece?
Believe it or not this story originated in a seaside town on the North East Coast of England! When I go to Scarborough in Yorkshire, my favourite town in the whole wide world, one of the places I HAVE to visit is Florio's. Florio's is a brilliant little Italian restaurant that serves the most delicious food.
There also happens to be a rather handsome waiter there but obviously he has no influence on me wanting to go there, no of course not! However he was the inspiration for Carlo in Tasty Italian!
What did you love about writing this book?
I've created a hot Italian waiter, what do you think I enjoyed? Ha. I also loved writing about the food, finding out about Italy and working out how I could get my gal and guy to kiss! It was all round fun.
Was anything especially difficult for you in this story?
Research, I'm not terribly good at it and I had to decide on a town in Italy for Carlo to come from and I had to research what it was like and how easy it was to get to. It was interesting once I got into it but I do find looking something up can be like looking for a needle in a haystack now we've got so much information at our fingertips.
Do you have any routines, quirks, peeves, when writing?
I mainly write in a morning when the house is quiet and I can concentrate also I'm one of these mad morning people and my brain just works better first thing in the morning.
I wonder if I do have any quirks, it's hard to know if you're being quirky in something where you rarely experience another person doing it! So no, I don't think I have any but you might want to ask my husband, he may disagree!
Any guilty pleasures that steal you away from your writing process?
Generally the things that take me away from my writing can't be classified as pleasures but it is no secret that I love to bake and sometimes I do bake when I know I should be writing. I can't resist! When I read a new, tasty sounding recipe I have to give it a try!
Is there anything you find particularly challenging about bringing a story to life?
I find the filling in difficult. You see ideas pop into my head. I'll have a character or two first, then I will work out when/where/how they meet and I'll have ideas for their first kiss and how things will develop from there. However, I won't know precisely the plot from start to finish and the bits I get stuck on will be the bridges between the scenes that I've already imagined in my head.
Who is your favourite character you've written to date and why?
I always find this a difficult question to answer because my characters are almost like children and I love them all very much!
Okay, but just between us, I do have a favourite. He's called Joe and he's a delicious dominant American who will be making his appearance in a Trio of books to be released by Xcite in the near future. I'm afraid I have no more details as I've only just signed the contract. I can tell you that they are Called Naughty, Naughtier and Naughtiest Rendezvous and they contain much romance, generous smatterings of humour and spankings a plenty!
Who is your favourite character, full stop? In anyone's written or unwritten story.
Oh now this is a really cruel question! However I do love Death. No, that's not as morbid as it sounds! I mean the anthropomorphic personification of Death in Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels. I adore him. He's brilliant.
Do you get hot and bothered when writing sex?
Ask my Husband! *wink, wink, nudge nudge*
Mention one element that readers will find in all your books, and why.
Well now, funny you should ask that! There is something very specific that you will find in every single Blisse you read. You will find a curvy, cuddly character. Usually it will be a rubenesque lady but there is a cuddly man in Lyrical, just to change things up a bit!
Why, you ask? Well, I got into this erotica writing biz for a few reasons and one of the major ones is that I'd gotten sick to death of reading about 'perfect' heroines with perfectly perky boobs and slim figures. I wanted to write about people like me. Because ladies with wobbly bits are sexy too!
What will people come away with after reading your books?
Now this is what I'd like to think they'd come away with, whether they do or not is completely out of my hands. I write the words, I can't make people read them in the way I want them too! I hope they will take away that everyone is sexy, that romance isn't always serious, that it can make you laugh too. I hope they will take away the desire to read more Blisse stories too!
What do you come away with after you're finished writing a book?
Short nails and a distinct caffeine buzz? Oh, is that not what you meant? I have a sense of relief, a real, deep contentment (for a few hours anyway) that my story is finally done. It's a really good feeling but I always have a hunger deep inside that pushes me on to write the next story and the next…
What book would you recommend to a new reader that isn't familiar with your work?
I offer you a series! My Getting Together Trilogy, available from Xcite is about as Blisse-typical as you can get. It's romantic, funny and full of hot sex! So start out with Getting Physical and you'll get to know my style pretty well.
What kind of stories do you like to read?
I have a soft spot for fantasy and paranormal as you might have picked up from one of my earlier answers. I'm just enjoying reading Sommer Marsden's Zombie Exterminators series, it's brill!
Are you still as passionate about writing as you were when you first started?
I suspect even more so. Before I wrote because I enjoyed it, now I write because I have to.
What is coming next?
*resists desire to make a dirty comment* Next, ah next we have an Office sex bet which ends up with lots of exhibitionistic goodness between three hot and horny characters of mine. Temporary Insanity is out on the 24th October from Total-E-Bound.
Keep an eye on http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk to find out the release day for Naughty Rendezvous (containing Joe, my favourite character) and then, when we get to December we have something sweet, sexy and Seasonal called It's Always Christmas in Lincoln. So there's plenty still to come from me this year!
Can you share a long term goal with us in relation to your work?
A fantasy of mine revolves around signed copies of my books selling for lots of money on eBay.
Thank you so much for stopping by today and letting me pick your brains about Tasty Italian. Can't wait to settle down with a steamy espresso and my Kindle and lose myself in Carlo.
Lily x
Blurb for Tasty Italian
Fiona was bored with her life but she didn't realise that simply deciding to visit the local Italian restaurant for dinner one night would change it forever. When she laid eyes on the fit, young Italian waiter she fell instantly in lust. Carlo returned that ardour but how could their relationship develop when he had to move back to his home in Italy?
Excerpt From: Tasty Italian
Fiona was knackered after another long day at work. She was hungry, it was late and she didn't want to cook. Her decision made, she walked past her car towards the red, white and green of Roberto's restaurant sign. The beautiful summer's evening and the mellow sunlight made even the urban sprawl of Manchester's city centre seem beautiful and romantic. The hint of pink heralding good weather for the next day brought out the deep rouge of the red bricked buildings that she passed and drew dark swirling patterns on the tarmac below her feet.
From the moment she walked into the restaurant she was enveloped by the warmth of exuberant cooking. She could smell it, almost taste it on the air and could hear the gentle click and clunk of pans being shaken on the hob. She was instantly comforted.
"Ah, mia bella, would you like a table?" a loud voice called and was followed by a striding man. He was round, curly-haired and red-faced. His smile stretched the length of his impressive moustache. Roberto was larger than life and Fiona adored him.
"Ah, Fiona. I have just the perfect table for you, follow me."
She followed him past tables of laughing, joking people to one in the corner, near the kitchen. He placed an open menu in front of her as she sat down.
"What would you like to drink tonight?"
"Just a glass of water, please Roberto."
"No vino? That is criminal on a Friday night."
"I've had a long day and I have to drive home. Water will really hit the spot, thank you."
"Ah, a wise lady, a wise lady indeed. My mama would have loved you."
"Why, thank you." Fiona chuckled.
He always managed to make her smile. She was completely charmed by the effervescent man and the homely interior of the restaurant. There were postcards on the walls, sweet tourist ornaments on shelves and a lovely higgledy-piggledy arrangement to the tables. It was like visiting a favourite family member. She felt comfortable dining there.
"It is busy here tonight, mia bella, but I will have Carlo look after you. He is a good lad."
October 2, 2011
Goddess Fish Party
Join me today at Goddess Fish 9am-9pm EST. There's guest blogs, contests, excerpts and fun info. Head on over....
