Liz Everly's Blog, page 10
February 12, 2018
Illicit Reading Fun: Talking Hot Stepbrother Romance W/ Rheanna of Cammo Style Love
by Madeline Iva
Hi Readers! Gonna kick of V-day week with a new mini-series at Lady Smut — Illicit Reading Fun! Spark your romance palate with some smoking hot books you might not have tried before. Today, Rheanna Christine from Cammo Style Love and I are talking about STEPBROTHER ROMANCES.
Let’s Address the “ick” factor and get that out of the way. Okay, so there’s the dude that’s part of your family that you’d never be into– EW! –cause he’s your frickin’ brother–full, half, step, and/or adopted. On the other end of the spectrum is the hot guy who came into your home for a couple years cause his dad was married to your mom for a few years. No, you didn’t grow up with him. No, he doesn’t feel like a sibling. He’s just someone you have a tenuous connection to. And if there’s chemistry there–strong sexual chemistry and feels—what then? It’s a bit gross and almost-incest-y in concept to go for it. Certainly winding up in a relationship for reals with your stepbrother is not something you’d rejoice in explaining to anyone else, or wanna shout from the rooftops, but feeling it can’t happen is just making it h-o-t-t-e-r. What are you supposed to do????
That, my ladies, is what Stepbrother Romances are all about.
A SHORT HISTORY OF THE EVOLUTION OF STEPBROTHER ROMANCE
I actually have no idea what the real origins of stepbrother romance are. But here’s the story I tell myself:
[image error]1995: CLUELESS is released and becomes mega-popular. There’s a huge scandal across the land that the heroine of the movie, Cher, played by Alicia Silverstone, winds up with her former step-brother, Josh, played by professional cutie actor, Paul Rudd.
AS IF!
In fact, no one minded at all that these two had once been steps years ago –and for her dad–several wives ago. What’s an ex-stepbrother? Is he still a relative? The big point is no one cared! And once people caught on that this was a remake of Jane Austen’s Emma, people could see this as a modern updating of that classic story. (In Emma, the heroine and hero have siblings who married each other. So they’re sorta related–by marriage. Clueless uses our modern world to create the same kind of situation.)
Fast forward to:
2007 – 2012 GOSSIP GIRL Serena, played by Blake Lively, winds up being a step-sister to Chuck, an ex-boyfriend. A high-school guy she had sex with. Then his dad dies. At the same time, Serena moves on romantically and becomes involved in Dan, played by eternal cutie Penn Badgley. However, they break up. However, Serena’s MOM has also moved on–to her old ex-flame, Dan’s DAD. They marry, and now Serena is yet again in a step-sibling situation with someone she once was boinking.
Did the nation go crazy? Nooooooo — not exactly, but Gossip Girl’s secret sauce was all about pushing buttons in order to create teen melodrama based on values that would make any right thinking parent cringe.
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I’ve posted before on my helpless self-loathing & fascination for this horrible yet addictive show. Sigh.
Moving on: 2012. Suddenly, just as Gossip Girl is shutting down, the stepbrother romance thing–which had been gearing up back as early as 2009 was a phenom. Stepbrother romance is a thing. By 2014-2015, it’s everywhere. It’s got all these variations and permutations. Yet Lady Smut–always in the know–has never talked about Stepbrother romances before. Well, at long last the time has come. Bonding with Rheanna Christine at the Washington Romance Writer’s Luncheon over the last few years, I asked her about some of her illicit joys in reading steamy romance and she named Stepbrother romances. Of course, since she is the blogger for Cammo Style Love–it should be no surprise to peeps that her fav flavor of Stepbrother romances is military. She recommended to me a book called STEPBROTHER HERO by Krista Lakes.
Here’s what Rheanna had to say about STEPBROTHER HERO and Stepbrother romances:
RHEANNA CHRISTINE: So, I stumbled across this book quite accidentally during one of my usual “free and cheap” searches on Amazon. I am a particular fan of military romance and this book popped up in the search. First reaction was horror, second reaction was curiosity. And I think this book came at a very pivotal time for me in my romance reading journey. At this time I was sticking mostly with sweet romance and faith based romance. I was really nervous about reading romance in general, which makes me laugh now. I read the back cover and realized that “stepbrother” was kind of a loose description so I decided to jump right on in.
MADELINE IVA: What have you seen around and about in our culture that makes the stepbrother thing just darn fine and not really ‘ish’ if you think about it–for you?
RHEANNA CHRISTINE: Well, I loved Clueless, but I don’t know that I really even picked up on that! I mean I knew they were related by marriage but it was such a far removed relationship. But that is really all secular culture can get away with I think. There will always be some things that are taboo no matter what. But in books I feel like you can get away with more. There was that weird moment in Star Wars that everyone always giggles about– [ The moment where Princess Leia kisses Luke Skywalker in front of Han Solo–only to have it revealed two movies later they’re twins. –MI] –as well as the satirical remake of The Brady Bunch where Marsha and Greg have a little kiss. One of the movies that always pushed the boundaries for me was in the movie CRUEL INTENTIONS. [Another high-school remake of a classic — Dangerous Liaisons–MI] Sarah Michelle Gellar plays a sex-obsessed high schooler that likes to get it on with her step brother. But its also one of those technically they are step brother and sister thing…so it feels just naughty enough to intrigue but not actually naughty.
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1999 — another teen remake of an old classic.
MADELINE IVA: I really enjoyed STEPBROTHER HERO. Classic erom–the hero is smokin’ hot, and the sex is fabulous. I appreciated the struggles that they had–and I appreciated even more that they were all middle class with the real struggles that ordinary folks face financially. I felt this aspect was authentic and real–while still presenting us with the enjoyable moments, plot twists, and feels we expect out of romance. Is the key lynchpin of Stepbrother romances that they’re really not siblings — not in terms of time spent growing up together or emotionally?
RHEANNA CHRISTINE: So they only ones I’ve read are written like this–where they are related by a technicality. Krista lakes has a series of three books that are about the step brother romance. I just downloaded another one, by Selena Kitt called STEPBROTHER BEAST. Like Krista’s book, it popped up on my radar because it involves a military man as well. Krista does billionaire romance, small town, and even tries her hand a modern spin on Pride and Prejudice. She’s a great writer.
MADELINE IVA: Thanks for chatting with me, Rheanna! There you have it — readers!
Want to find out more about books that Rheanna likes? Check out her BLOG and here’s her GOODREADS page. Dive in!
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Rheanna and I also discussed her love for romances where the heroine gets preggers. *Cough* *Cough* Just sayin’. ; >
And click on STEPBROTHER ROMANCE if you wanna buy a copy — I warn you though, I was only able to get a paperback and went into a bit of stickershock over the price. :/
For some of you that won’t matter — and if you wanna go down that Step-sibling rabbit hole–here are some Goodreads pages that will help you help you find “the good stuff”.
https://www.goodreads.com/list/show/84527.Stepbrother_Books
https://www.goodreads.com/shelf/show/step-brother-sister
https://www.goodreads.com/shelf/show/step-brother
https://www.goodreads.com/shelf/show/step-siblings
https://www.goodreads.com/list/show/23946.Step_Siblings_or_Related_in_Love
The post Illicit Reading Fun: Talking Hot Stepbrother Romance W/ Rheanna of Cammo Style Love appeared first on Lady Smut.
February 11, 2018
Sexy Sunday Snippet: Spanking the Senator by Elizabeth SaFleur
Think Femme Domme might not be your thing? Elizabeth SaFleur promises her alpha male submissives who meet the female Dominants of their dreams are no pushovers. That’s what makes it so much fun, right?
About the book:
“No one is regular when it comes to sex.” ~Candor Moore
Secret Service Agent Candor Moore puts her life at risk every day to protect the men and women this country elects to high office. She expects no thanks, would prefer to remain invisible. So when she saves the life of Senator Thomas Kincaid she doesn’t know how to handle his sudden romantic interest in her. Love is messy. Love is unpredictable. Love cannot be controlled. But sex where she can exercise her full Femme Domme nature? Oh, yes.
Thomas can’t stop thinking about the beautiful guardian angel who put her body between him and a bullet—the first woman to spark his interest since his wife died. Candor proves to be a hard sell when he asks her out, and even harder to pin down around commitment. Thomas had never considered himself a sexually submissive man, but for his Mistress Angel’s love, he’ll go all in—which proves to be the key to earning her heart.
~~~~~
“Thomas.” Candor tapped her fingernails against her glass and scrutinized the man who sat before her full of hope, good looking, and, quite frankly, ignorant as to what he was getting himself into with her. Why did she find his innocence attractive? Perhaps she had delayed too long in immersing him in her brand of relationship, or non-relationship.
“Yes?” he asked.
“You like the idea of me dominating you.”
He nearly spat out his wine. She handed him his napkin.
“Would you like to find out how much?” she asked.
“Will you come to Montana?” He coughed a little into his napkin.
Negotiator, indeed.
She rested her bare foot on his. He didn’t pull it back as he had at the restaurant.
“I will do more with you. Tonight,” she declared. Oh, that look on his face was priceless.
“Are you getting hard for me, Thomas?” she asked.
His neck flushed but his eyes stayed trained on hers. “Yes.”
She pushed out her chair and held out her hand. “Come with me.” The time for talk and teasing was over.
He looked up at her as if to ask, already? Yes, already, she thought.
She wasn’t going to go away with a man who didn’t understand she had one kind of relationship on her mind, and her preferences would never change. She’d tried a few vanilla dates here and there, even dated a man for six months whose idea of deviant sex was doing it upright in the shower. She’d been bored witless. Thomas, however, fascinated her.
Thomas pushed back his chair and rose. “Can I bring my wine?” He threw her a smile, trying to lighten the mood, which was not his job. She wouldn’t allow him to direct the atmosphere.
As they took the steps, her mind cleared of the day’s events. She tuned into Thomas. She noted his breathing, the way he clutched his wine glass, how his eyes stayed trained forward.
“Don’t be nervous,” she said as soon as they reached the top of the stairs. “You can always say no.”
“Not likely,” he said under his breath.
She turned for his bedroom where she’d napped in a very comfortable king-sized bed draped in soft green, white, and taupe bedding. The tall bedposts begged to be put to good use, and despite being surrounded with classic cherry furniture with brass handles, the room had potential for what she planned. When she woke earlier, she was sure she’d been transported to Colonial Williamsburg. Time to add her flavor to the décor.
He set his wine down on his nightstand. “Candor, it’s been a while.”
“I understand.”
“It’s just if this is an audition . . .”
She smiled, but he looked grim. “No, Thomas.” She ran her palms down both his arms and captured his hands. “Remember, I won’t harm you,” she promised. “If you’d rather—”
“No,” he said quickly. “I want to.”
“Then take off your shirt. From there, I’ll direct your access to my body.”
His eyes darkened with lust. “Access,” he said.
“Yes, consider it like giving you permission.”
He swallowed so hard she saw his Adam’s apple move up and down. If this didn’t work, then there was no reason to torture each other with a trip across the country.
“You game?” she asked.
He nodded. “I’m game.” The words came out in a hoarse whisper, but his fingers moved to his buttons.
She stepped backward to give him room. Plus, she wanted to watch the reveal of his naked body. It wasn’t just men who got off on visual delights. Two buttons undone, and she could tell this man had hidden treasures.
His fingers stilled, and she glanced up at his face.
“Why, Thomas Kincaid, are you shy?”
“No. I just like taking my time.”
“As do I.”
“And I like watching you watch me. It’s like nothing bad can happen when you’re in the room.” The man smirked. “The first time I saw you, I thought a guardian angel stood over me. Silly, huh?”
“Not at all. Consider me your Mistress Angel.” She liked that—the sound of the name and its meaning. She would never let anyone hurt this man. She recognized a feeling of protectiveness toward Thomas, something she hadn’t felt in a while, certainly not about someone she wasn’t paid to protect. Other than Franco, of course.
More buttons released the constriction of fabric across his chest. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, shrugged out of the garment, and hung it over a chair back. His hands grabbed his under shirt and pulled it off over his head—a manly move she’d always adored—to reveal a delightful dusting of hair across his muscled chest, hair that was also peppered with gray and made him look even more masculine. This man pushed more than paper all day.
“Then I noticed your hair,” he said.
She walked to him and put a fingertip over his lips. Politicians made talking an art form, and silence would be one of his greatest challenges. Perhaps she’d gag him later—see if he could take not speaking.
She pushed him so the back of his knees hit the bed and he tumbled backward. He caught himself with his hands but didn’t try to get back up. His chest lay bared with his abs starkly delineated in muscle and a V of hair that trailed beneath his belt buckle.
She ran a fingertip over his stomach ridges. “You’ve been quite physical in your life.”
“Hay bales. Lifted thousands of them in my lifetime. No one who owns a horse ranch gets away without doing work.”
“Okay, then. I’m considering going to Montana with you.”
“Considering—”
His words choked in his throat as soon as she reached his belt buckle.
After ridding him of his belt and dumping it unceremoniously on the floor, she cupped his trapped erection.
“Yes,” she said. “I like to consider all my options.”
After unbuttoning his trousers, she freed a cock she knew would be as magnificent as the man who leaned back on his elbows receiving her handling. She’d felt him before but now was treated to the full visual.
“They do grow you country boys big, don’t they?” she said, marveling at the flesh in her hands.
“Now you’re just flattering me.” His eyes held an astounding confidence. Clearly, her dominance fueled his courage—something she’d rarely seen in a man but which was oh-so-welcomed.
She let go of him and stood upright. Taking three steps back, she slowly lowered herself into a corner wingback chair.
“Thomas, take off the rest of your clothes. Show me what else you’ve got.”
He smiled and rolled his eyes, but God love the man, he rose and did what she asked. The loss of his shirt, trousers, socks and then those tight black briefs confirmed all the high hopes she had for this man.
Some men were just proportioned correctly with well-developed legs, torso, and arms as if they were designed to go with one another. Someone high above definitely designed Thomas Kincaid well—very well. He should have an ego the size of Montana. Instead, he stood before her, nude and comfortable, as if masculinity was in his genes, a man who had embraced the physicality of life from an early age.
Now she’d see how much he got off on being truly, thoroughly dominated.
BUY LINKS for Spanking the Senator
Amazon US Amazon UK Amazon CA Amazon AU Barnes & Noble Kobo
~~~~~
Elizabeth SaFleur writes contemporary romance that dares to “go there.” Expect alpha males (and females), seductive encounters, and love. Learn more about her steamy and sexy stories by following her on Amazon and Bookbub.
The post Sexy Sunday Snippet: Spanking the Senator by Elizabeth SaFleur appeared first on Lady Smut.
February 10, 2018
Sexy Saturday Round Up
[image error]By Elizabeth Shore
The season of love is upon us. I’m talking Valentine’s Day, people, coming at us next Wednesday. Hump day! Rather appropriate, don’t you think? And let’s hope there’s a whole lotta humping going on. 
February 5, 2018
Buried Under A Pile of Fantasy Books: Your Wildest Dream Come True
by Madeline Iva
Hello my pretties — have you seen this contest for fantasy and fantasy romance lovers? The prizes are sick.
You can enter to win my book WICKED APPRENTICE, plus 20 fantastic epic fantasy novels–from authors like Bree Barton and D.K. Holmberg among others.
PLUS you get FREE ebooks just for entering–from an amazing collection of authors.
PLUS a brand new eReader.
You know you want it–enter the contest by clicking here: http://bit.ly/magesandsages-feb2018
This BookSweeps contest ends Mon Feb 12th. Since this giveaway ends soon, make sure you hurry and enter! Good luck! When you’re done, dwell on the fact that you’re about to be showered in books and prizes.
The post Buried Under A Pile of Fantasy Books: Your Wildest Dream Come True appeared first on Lady Smut.
February 4, 2018
Sexy Sunday Snippet: Won’t Feel a Thing by CF White
How lucky are we! This week we have a hot bit from Won’t Feel a Thing, Book 1 of CF White’s St. Cross series.
About the book:
It takes more than a doctor to mend a broken heart.
Ollie Warne is fresh out of nursing school and working his dream job as a pediatric cardiology nurse at St Cross Children’s Hospital, London. He wants to start the new year free of personal heartache after his track record of falling for the wrong man–his New Year’s resolution is to live a life of carefree liaisons from now on.
He immediately meets Jacob, father of one of Ollie’s patients and a man harboring more guilt and past demons than even Ollie, which is saying something…
Their growing attraction makes it hard for Ollie to keep his distance, but he has to. Not only do the ethics of his profession demand it, but Ollie is entangled with another man–a predatory doctor who has a huge personal and professional stake in Ollie’s life.
Ollie risks more than his job by getting involved with a patient’s father–and much more than just the success of his New Year’s resolution, something that was supposed to ensure that, this time, he won’t feel a thing.
Excerpt:
“You want my opinion?”
“Yes.”
“My honest opinion?”
“Yes,” Ollie repeated. “Please.”
“Brutal honest opinion?”
“Yes.”
“Even if you don’t like it?”
“Even if I never want to talk to you again.” Ollie took a sharp slurp through the straw of his smoothie and winced, his glasses tipping to the end of his nose. “Until tonight, anyway.”
“Then leave well alone.”
Ollie sighed. He sucked up another mouthful of his daily fruit and veg intake, flicked back his blond hair that had lost its vigor after a twelve-hour night shift, and glanced away from Taya’s wide brown oval eyes. The eyes that signified she meant every damn word. Bitch.
“Told you.”
Taya freed her dark, waist-length hair from its curled bun and stroked it over one shoulder. She wrapped the band around her slender, dark-skinned wrist, then sipped her dainty cup of pink hot chocolate. The blue edges of her lips, caused by the freezing weather, were subsiding back to their usual reddish tinge with each guzzle of the pink cream and rainbow of chocolate candies scattered over her ridiculous, sickly concoction. She hadn’t even an offered a spoonful to him. Twelve hours straight on night shift clearly meant she needed the sugar all to herself.
“He’s not worth your time, your worry, or your respect.” She clanged the cup down onto the glass surface of the table, pulled her winter trench coat over the scrubs she hadn’t bothered to change out of, and reached for her packet of menthol slims.
“Neither are they.” Ollie pointed to the cigarettes.
Taya glared across the table. She unhooked the top of the packet, took one of the white sticks between her teeth, and lit it with her pink lighter. Blowing the smoke into the freezing cold air, she waved her hand.
“We all have our vices, Oliver.”
Ollie stuck his middle finger up. He slapped it back down and shoved it into his jacket pocket. It was freezing, and Taya had to bloody sit outside the corner coffee shop in order to smoke her way out of the trying night shift. She was right. Everyone needed their vices, especially with what he and Taya did for a living. He sighed.
“I think he needs patience.”
“He’s got plenty of those.” Taya pointed her two fingers clutching the death stick at Ollie.
“Har fricking har. Patience with a c.”
“He’s a c all right.” Taya took another drag. At Ollie’s glare, she sighed and rested her elbow on the table top. “What? He is.”
“I think you may be the only female in the entire hospital who doesn’t like him.” Ollie slurped the dregs of his raspberry-ripple smoothie and shivered. He should have gone for a hot drink, but it was hard enough to sleep during the day as it was. Caffeine would only make it infinitely more difficult.
“That’s because I know him,” Taya replied.
“Urgh. Not you too?”
“Ew.” Taya grimaced around her cigarette. “No, thank you.”
Ollie leaned back in the chair. He waved a hand to waft away the smoke drifting into his face. To give her some credit, Taya was trying to blow it out of the side of her mouth to avoid him, but the icy-cold January breeze from the earlier sleet downpour blew it straight back. Ollie zipped up his puffer jacket, folded his arms, and jiggled on the cold metal chair.
“You nearly done?” He nodded to the half-full cup of violently pink chocolate.
Taya blew another puff of smoke into the air, stubbed out the remains of her cigarette, and downed the rest of her drink, leaving a foam mustache on her top lip. She licked it away. “Yeah. Home to bed, miss the snowfall, back at eight. You?”
They scraped back their chairs, and Ollie tucked a five-pound note under the ashtray for the servers. Anyone willing to come outside and serve drinks in this weather should most definitely get tips, even if his measly nurse’s wages were probably far less than those of the coffee baristas working this part of London.
“I should go see my dad,” he replied.
Taya linked her arm in with his, curling her slender fingers around his quilted sleeve. Checking both ways along the crossroads lined by independent boutiques, high-class restaurants, unconventional cafes, and health-food shops, she steered him across, narrowly missing a black cab speeding over the miniroundabout. The glass-enclosed bus stop’s bench overflowed with waiting passengers, so he stood, waiting, jiggling on his freezing toes within his inappropriate-for-the-weather slip-on loafers, and checked the time on the electric board for when the next bus was due.
“How’s he doing?” Taya asked.
“Good days and bad days.” Ollie sighed. “Keeps calling me Tilly.”
Taya tried to hold in the chuckle but failed miserably. Ollie didn’t mind so much. A good sense of humor was always best in these situations, not to mention their line of work. He pulled Taya in closer. It was fricking freezing, and snowflakes fell from the overcast sky. How would he get back to work later that night? London came to a standstill if even one flake hit any mode of public transport. Him living in the other end of the city—the cheap end—would make it all the more difficult to travel across town. On occasions, where there wasn’t a downfall, he would have cycled in. But that was out of the question with the ice on the roads. And the fact he hadn’t woken up in his own bed last night. Ollie shuddered at the memory.
“Right.” Ollie bounced to keep warm while awaiting the number 252. “It’s January. So that means New Year’s resolutions. What’s yours?”
“Quit smoking.”
“Good luck.” Ollie meant it.
Taya stuck out her tongue.
“Well, we both know mine—”
“Which you broke last night.” Taya was a bitch like that.
“I don’t believe New Year’s resolutions should start until the second week of January.” Ollie rubbed his hands together, digging Taya’s arm into his side, and wondered why he hadn’t thought to bring gloves. Ah, yes, he hadn’t had any where he’d been before his shift started. He wasn’t allowed to leave any trace of his existence there.
“Riiight,” Taya said. “So that means from today, you’ll be steering clear of arsehole men?”
“Sadly, no. Unfortunately, I will no doubt encounter many of them in my time without realizing until it’s too late.”
“Amen.” Taya saluted.
Ollie wasn’t sure what the salute was about. But he wasn’t particularly religious, so maybe that was how it was done in church these days? Or temples, considering Taya’s family were Hindu.
“So what is your resolution, then?”
“No baggage,” Ollie replied.
“Baggage?”
“Yep,” Ollie confirmed.
The gleaming new red Routemaster bus edged along the narrow High Street, bumping over the speed mounds meant to slow the traffic down, which Ollie thought ridiculous as the morning rush-hour pileup tended to last all day in central London. The streets were filled with scuttling people carrying take-out coffee cups, cyclists braving the ice, and the occasional honking of a taxi horn. This time of the morning, most people were trying to get to work and not home from it like Ollie and Taya. He was never quite sure who were keener to reach their destinations.
“I don’t mind a complete arsehole—”
“Obviously.” Taya cut Ollie off with a rise of her perfectly plucked eyebrows. That new Rainbow Hot Chocolate had clearly contained one too many e-numbers and sent her loopy. That and the long night shift. Not that she hadn’t been a little bit loopy to begin with.
“Ha-ha.” Ollie pushed her forehead. “Like, I can handle a dickhead—”
“We all know.”
“Jesus Christ,” Ollie muttered. “No more white hot chocolate with pink dye for you, okay?”
“Sorry.” Taya pressed her lips together. She rose up on her tiptoes to check on the bus’s progress but needn’t have worried as it had traveled all of a millimeter since the start of their conversation. At this rate Ollie might get home in time to have a shower and come straight back.
“What I mean is—”
“You don’t want a man who can’t commit because of circumstance,” Taya finished for him.
Ollie was capable of finishing his own sentences, but Taya was getting warm from flapping her lips, so he allowed it. “Exactly. I’m married to my job. I love my job. Therefore, I should have the occasional fling and become the arsehole myself.” He pointed a finger at Taya. “Don’t fricking say it.”
Taya shrugged and mimed zipping her lips up.
“What do we nurses say on the daily?”
“No, you can’t have McDonald’s?”
“Not that one.”
“You’re going to feel a little prick?”
Ollie sniggered. “Not that one either.”
“Oh, I know. It’s, of course I’ll change your TV channel for you—it’s not like I have anything better to do with my time?”
“No! I mean the big one: you won’t feel a thing.”
Taya nodded. “So?”
“So, my resolution is to no longer feel a thing.”
“Good luck.” Taya smiled. Bitch.
The bus pulled up, and Ollie jogged on the spot, waiting for the doors to open. They hissed to the side, and even though he and Taya were standing correctly at the hop-on part of the Routemaster with the exit farther along the double decker, a tall man with floppy dark hair jumped straight off and bashed Ollie’s arm as he rushed up the High Street, heading toward the gleaming glass frontage of St. Cross Children’s Hospital.
“Ouch.” Ollie pouted and rubbed his arm.
“Ha!” Taya jumped the step onto the bus.
“What?”
Amusement shimmered across Taya’s face as she bleeped her Oyster card onto the yellow reader. “You just felt something.”
“Oh, bog off.”
~~~~~
Get your copy now at Loose Id or Amazon.
CF White was brought up in a relatively small town in Hertfordshire, C F White managed to do what most other residents try to do and fail—leave.
Studying at a West London university, she realised there was a whole city out there waiting to be discovered, so, much like Dick Whittington before her, she never made it back home and still endlessly searches for the streets paved with gold, slowly coming to the realisation they’re mostly paved with chewing gum. And the odd bit of graffiti. And those little circles of yellow spray paint where the council point out the pot holes to someone who is supposedly meant to fix them instead of staring at them vacantly whilst holding a polystyrene cup of watered-down coffee.
She eventually moved West to East along that vast District Line and settled for pie and mash, cockles and winkles and a bit of Knees Up Mother Brown to live in the East End of London; securing a job and creating a life, a home and a family.
Find CF on Twitter and Facebook.
The post Sexy Sunday Snippet: Won’t Feel a Thing by CF White appeared first on Lady Smut.
February 3, 2018
Sexy Saturday Round Up
[image error]By Elizabeth Shore
Happy weekend, everyone! Happy Black History Month! And of course, as lovers of smut and romance know, the high priestess of smut and romance, a.k.a. Valentine’s Day, is right around the corner. So kick back – don’t forget there’s also kick-off, as in Super Bowl this weekend – and settle in. As always, we’ve gathered up some great reads. This week we’re giving you an extra jumbo edition of SSRU so you won’t run out of things to scroll through on your phone while THE BIG GAME is on.
From Elizabeth:
Who needs a box of chocolates when you can have chocolate-covered strawberry deodorant. Even if the taste isn’t so great…
What else can robots do better than we can? Predict who’s gay.
Making your nachos even more epic than the big game. 24 mouth-watering ways.
Yoga puts you into a demonic trance. And here you thought it was good for you. So silly…
If you can’t find the exact plaything to set your world on fire, why not just print one? Free 3D sex toy designs are here at last! Justin Bieber dildo, anyone?
The best sub-Reddits for porn.
From Madeline:
Buzzfeed wonders if romance writers post-election are taking power and changing the popular female romance narrative.
What does your husband think? How male readers ask female authors for a punch in the nose.
“Stephanie Myers & her Twilight franchise should be re-evaluated” — A thoughtful discussion of the vitriol phenom suroundin Twilight. I agree with so much of this article—and it explores some feminist concepts surrounding the response to Twihards. I really like this video–except the part about that dismisses Jacob’s ‘creepy’ behavior. It’s pedophilia peeps! Pedophilia! Plain and simple.
Remember when Stevie Nicks was a white witch in AHS: Coven? Well, the Aussie singer Lorde has a witchy vibe that’s au currant.
Man Repeller discusses the appeal of a black bra under a white shirt.
So those classic Greek and Roman sculptures–why are their weenies so small? The answer.
I loved how this article articulates the expressive genius and charisma of Tiffany Pollard and how her fame lives on in these political times through a dictionary of facial memes.
The employment opportunity some women have been seeking all their lives: how to get paid for treating men like shit
This weekend we’re offering you Our Special Aziz Ansari Section in case you only scanned the headlines and didn’t get a chance to chew on the whole situation–here is:
The Bebe original article about Azia Ansari’s douche-y behavior.
Why many insist Aziz’ behavior does not technically qualify as sexual assault, it’s still far too common problem in America. Why women don’t just say “WTF?” to men who behave this way, slap their face and leave? A sexual educator talks about intimidation and alienation that afflicts America’s women.
Men as a way of processing and grappling with the Azis Ansari incident have resorted to education and (mansplaining) consent to other men.
The whole incident brings up the issue of how consent is modeled in fiction — an article which in itself has other interesting links. Enjoy going down that rabbit hole, my friends!
Finally–it’s Super Bowl weekend–Go Pats! Why Tom Brady the gorgeous, immortal, perfect hunk of a GOAT (Greatest Of All Time) has become the quarterback everyone has decided to hate.
The post Sexy Saturday Round Up appeared first on Lady Smut.
January 28, 2018
Sexy Sunday Snippet: Tapped by Liz Crowe
Tip up your mugs, this Sunday we have a hot excerpt from Liz Crowe’s Tapped, from her Brewing Passion series.
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About the book:
One hot entrepreneur plus a driven saleswoman and sultry brewer: simmered in the craft beer world for a unique, sexy reading experience!
When wealthy brewery owner Austin Fitzgerald meets sexy saleswoman Evelyn Benedict, angry sparks fly. They seem destined to clash, until a hot hookup in a cold beer cooler changes everything.
For Austin, it’s a life-altering moment that sets him on a path away from his birthright, while Evelyn must face her fears about committing to a man considered the playboy of the micro-brewing world.
The power of their preconceived notions nearly tears them apart—until they meet up with brewmaster Ross, who opens their eyes to a deeper, more erotic connection.
But three strong personalities don’t always make for the best emotional mix and when a simple misunderstanding causes chaos, it’s up to Ross to somehow repair the tattered shreds of their relationship.
Excerpt:
Austin sat, sipping coffee and watching the sun rise. He’d slipped out from under the soft sheets and Evelyn’s warm embrace, smiling as she mumbled and flopped over onto her other side. After a freezing five-mile run along trail around the lake, he’d come back, gotten coffee from the smiling B & B owner and sat, watching Evelyn sleep for a few minutes. After deciding to let her rest, he took his coffee to the adjoining room with a giant floor-to-ceiling window.
To say that life as Evelyn Benedict’s boyfriend was tumultuous constituted an understatement in the extreme. Her mood swings were wide and at times breathtaking. She lived and worked with a passion matched only by her enthusiasm for sex.
And she expected a lot of the people around her, so when someone disappointed her at work, or in his case, at home, there was hell to pay. But he loved it. Absolutely fucking reveled in it, using his own much calmer nature to cool her, to temper some of her more egregious outbursts of anger and frustration.
Of course, ‘home’ was a misnomer. She refused to move in with him, keeping that shitty apartment like a badge of honor, staying over at his condo on the weekends but insisting on sleeping in her own bed during the week.
So he stayed with her, mostly. And since he’d never been a guy who gave much thought to his surroundings as long as his basic needs were met, he didn’t care. Because she met every single one of his needs—emotional and mental with her constant questions and challenges about brewing, his company, and how to make it better. And her physicality—her near constant need for skin-to-skin contact—matched his in a perfect and sometimes scary way.
As for the sex, he’d never met a woman more inclined to experiment. One many levels, she reminded him of Ross—and not just the way she threw herself into sex, enjoying every moment, every touch, every caress as if it might be her last. She was also somewhat alarmingly like him in other ways—guarding herself, second-guessing anything that might hint at actual emotion, willing to let others commit before she would. Ready to retract into her hard, tough-girl shell, emotionless shell at the slightest provocation.
Maddening. But he was so deeply in love with her, he felt prepared to meet it, head on.
Most days.
“Austin?” Her voice behind him made him stand and stretch, his cock already tingling in anticipation. “Where did you go? Jesus, what time is it? Get your ass back here.”
He grinned. “Think you can just boss me like that, woman?” He leaned on the door frame, drinking her in with his eyes. “Because you can’t.”
“I’m not bossing, dear. Just suggesting.” She let the sheet fall aside, revealing her completely naked body. His smile widened when she bent one knee and reached down to touch herself. “You know, only suggesting that you get your sweet self over here and help a girl out.”
He grinned, yanked off his shirt and shorts, and dove into the warm nest of sheets and Evelyn. The frustration at her most recent rejection was already forgotten in the amazing smell of her skin and the lovely sound of her moans as he did what she suggested, for an hour or two.
Later, when they lay tangled in damp sheets, catching their breath, their fingers clasped together between them, Evelyn sighed. “So, tell me something,” she said. Austin forced himself up to full consciousness as best he could.
“Hmm,” he said, turning to face her, taking in the flushed, well-fucked look on her face with more than a little self-satisfaction.
“How is it…I mean, with two, um, guys and a girl?”
Austin hesitated, then put her knuckles to his lips, buying himself some time.
She pulled her fingers free of his, sat up and wrapped the sheet around herself. One thing about his Evelyn, he mused, watching her. He would never accuse her of being indirect. About anything.
“Don’t baby me, Austin. I mean it. I want to know.”
“I have no doubt that you want to know, my love.” He propped himself on one elbow and ordered his thoughts.
“Don’t think about it, damn you. Just…tell me.” She swept her hair up off her neck, making his mouth water at the sight of her flushed skin. Making him want to grab her, hold her down, lick the sweat droplets and lose himself in her all over again. “Yo, earth to lover boy,” she demanded, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Spill it. What’s it like? I mean do you… Would you… Oh hell, never mind.” She turned and started to climb out of bed before he reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Hang on a second. I don’t mind telling you. I guess I didn’t expect you to want to know. Most…women…aren’t that into it.”
She let him pull her back into the warm bed and curled into him so he was pressed up against her back, his lips on her bare, delicious shoulder. “Stop it,” she whispered. “Tell me what it’s like to have sex with a woman with another guy in on the act.”
He sighed and held onto her. “It’s…pretty amazing,” he admitted. “I mean, I can’t speak for the women I’ve… We’ve…well, you know what I mean.”
With a grunt of frustration, Evelyn turned and faced him, taking his face between her hands. “Are you bisexual, Austin? Because if you are, I want you to know I’m okay with it.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No, I’m not. Unless being comfortable watching my friend have sex with a woman right in front of me, or fucking her ass while he does the same to her pussy makes me bi, of course. Because I really do enjoy doing that.”
Admitting this felt like a giant weight lifting off his chest—the last barrier to complete honesty with her was gone. Something about this made his dick hard. Or maybe it was the way one of her legs was draped over his hip, and the way her beautiful, lush breasts were barely covered by the soft white sheet right in front of him. Or perhaps it was the rich, raw, smell of her, of them, and of their recent activity in this small bedroom.
He shifted, pulling her closer, but she held back, not taking her gaze from his face. “You really enjoy it, eh?”
“Yes, Evelyn, I do. Feel this? That’s how much I enjoy it. And I’d swear after the last hour or two it would take me a day to recover.” He took her hand and put it on the erection tenting the sheet over his hips. Her slow, sexy smile made him shiver. “God help me, woman, I love you so much…” He kissed her hard, owning her, frustration with her melting away into a puddle of lust.
She broke the kiss, but kept up her hand work. “Tell me more, Austin,” she whispered, leaning close to nip his earlobe. “I want to hear about it—how you do it. How you and Ross pleasure a woman together.”
Austin froze for a split second, pondering the implication of this specific request. But the sheet covering her breasts drew away, distracting him. He reached out and held the pleasant heaviness of one in his palm. “You want to know how we do it, huh?” He grazed her nipple with his thumb, making her shudder and his dick even harder. She nodded, her blue eyes sparkling and bright, the now-familiar turned-on Evelyn sensations enveloping him.
“Like this,” he whispered, pulling away and flipping her over so fast she squealed.
~~~~~
Get your copy now on Amazon US, B&N: and iTunes.
Author, mom of three math-minded adults, Realtor, brewery marketing consultant and sports fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville living in Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse. Her unique, realistic style has been dubbed “Romance for Real Life,” and has gained thousands of fans interested in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”).
Find her on Website, Facebook Fan Page and Sign Up for Liz Newz.
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January 27, 2018
Sexy Saturday Round Up
[image error]By Elizabeth Shore
Is it true that this is the last weekend of January? It is! Crazy as that seems the winter is zooming away. Soon we’ll start noticing buds on the trees and bugs on the ground. But not quite yet. As Madeleine notes below, we’re still dealing with cold weather and chipped nipples! OW indeed! We’ve got some fabulous links for you this weekend, so pull up a glass of Jon Bon Jovi wine – yes, that John Bon Jovi – and settle in.
Feeling a little short on cash? Come to NYC and meet a rich guy. Here’s where lads with loads hang out.
The hottest new drink in the Hamptons – John Bon Jovi wine.
What your horoscope says about your love life in 2018.
Do you need a vibrator that warms up? Well, yeah, maybe…
Make sure your guy doesn’t start pulling away by avoiding these six things.
From Madeline:
The history of romance novels – with Lucy Worsley (to know her on You Tube and her historical docu-films is to love her)
This woman protests the wage gap by writing erotic fan fic at work.
Is this The Onion? This is NOT the Onion: Irish woman legally marries 300 year old pirate ghost.
We need bodice ripper sex ed. How modern Bodice Rippers teach us about the need for women’s pleasure to come first.
Baby it’s COLD outside! So keep those nipples warm, eh? Hospitals across Maine report epidemic of chipped nipples this winter. OWWW!
Why we’re obsessed with student-teacher sex.
She writes romance novels, but in reality she’s have “Cat Person” sex — author Andie J. Christopher shares her new resolutions in this #MeToo moment.
They’re the WORST: A gilded age satire on comedy central is all too apt in pointing to the worst class crimes of our modern age.
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January 26, 2018
Of Magic, Winter Landscapes and Russian Revolution
Who is sick of the news? Who is weary from rapid-fire action and violent conflict that permeates our entertainment these days? Gather around my tired and weary friends for I have a new obsession to share that will take you far, far away from the angry, shoot ‘em up movies and TV shows that fill our screens. Welcome to Turkish Romance.
A year ago, a friend of mine gushed about a show called Kurt Seyit ve Şura. Well, mostly about the lead actor — Kıvanç Tatlıtuğ. Can you blame her?
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My friend warned me about its soap-opera qualities, the sweeping, over-the-top music, the almost-too-gorgeous people (Oh, Seyit!). Now, having seen half of the first season, I can’t believe it took me this long to watch this show.
Ten minutes into the first episode the hero’s strength and nobility were declared, the heroine’s vulnerability established, the nemesis identified, the war showcased, and the beauty of early 20th Century Russia showcased. Ten minutes, my friends! That’s stellar crafting, and that brilliance was all it took for me to be all in.
Kurt Seyit ve Şura is based on the true, love story of Seyit Eminof, a 1st Lieutenant of the elite Imperial Guard and Şura Verjenskaya a Russian noblewoman. Seyit and Şura meet in WWI Russia just as the Bolshevik revolution was taking hold. They fall in love and are forced to break from their “magnificent lives” (the official publicity statement) to flee to Istanbul. And, bonus! Their romance is based on a true story, which only made me swoon more while watching it. The granddaughter of the real Seyit wrote the book on which the series is based.
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Along the lines of the Age of Innocence and Downton Abbey, Kurt Seyit ve Şura is a story of people experiencing their perfect, beautiful life crumble as society demands change, and set in a time when class divides were so severe revolution was inevitable. Much of the show shows off the excessive luxury the Russian noble class indulged in – the gorgeous palaces and architecture, the jeweled gowns sweeping across ballroom floors, love notes written on crisp, thick, monogrammed paper. It’s hard to feel sorry for their ultimate downfall, but oh, peeking into their lives is such a wonderful, guilty pleasure.
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Even with the show’s brilliant opening, the pace is slow and honestly welcomed. Expect love-filled lingering looks between characters, kisses that last minutes, music that swells in the background. Sigh. In fact, the music is often so cheesy, my husband has literally left the room. As for me? I love it Even with its soap-opera drama moments (if they would only talk to one another, clear up that miscommunication all would be well!), the show sucked me in faster than a black hole.
Case in point? I hate winter, but somehow this show made me fall in love with that frigid season from its scenery alone. The gorgeous, wintery Russian and Turkey landscape is a character of its own, and one that is used well to depict their lives. Picture snowflakes and ice chips crusted into beards as the gorgeous Seyit and his men stomp through snowy forests and trails on horseback. Imagine men and women in their fur-lined coats being jostled in open-topped carriages through icy streets. Be warmed by the outdoor, iron-scroll gaslights throwing light over iced steps.
Double sigh.
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The war is ever present in this series, but from afar like gunfire in the distance. So far, no real battle scenes have marred the beauty of the scenery. I expect the screen will eventually fill with a bloody battle scene. I mean, we’re talking the Bolshevik revolution that ended the Russian noble class for good. For now, I’m happy for war to be a bit player.
Back to Seyit, the hero. He is to die for. Noble, desperately trying to do the right thing, loyal, close to his family, and soon even closer to Şura, our heroine, he is everything one would want in a romance. He is beguiled by Şura’s innocence and purity, which I imagine is not unlike the life that they both lived, despite Seyit’s war-time occupation. I suppose you could liken Şura to Marie Antoinette, but without the cruelty and haughtiness. Şura certainly is as ignorant of the “real world.” You can’t help but love her, however, as she stares starry-eyed at Seyit. Who doesn’t want an all-encompassing, I-can’t-stop-staring at you love?
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One could argue that these two are delusional and simply in lust with one another, but that would spoil the magic. And, right now, I believe we all could use some magic. I’m not done with the series yet, but I’ll return to let you know how it all ends up. It’s romance so I’m expecting an HEA, but the producers cleverly only say Seyit’s granddaughter wrote the story, not Seyit and Şura’s granddaughter. Do they end up together? Does the war eventually tear them apart? (We all know how the revolution ends.) Do their long, lingering looks grow old? Do they grow old? Does someone throw themselves on a train track? I can only tell you this: I’m going to find out, despite the fact hubby can’t be in the room during the orchestral swells.
~~~~~
Elizabeth SaFleur writes contemporary romance that dares to “go there.” Expect alpha males (and females), seductive encounters, and love. Learn more about her steamy and sexy stories by following her on Amazon and Bookbub.
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January 25, 2018
Extremely Curvy Women: Throw Back Thursday
by Madeline Iva
(Author’s note: if you like this topic, check out my pinterest pages: Uber Curvy, Garter Smexy, and Lady Porn. 
