Liz Everly's Blog, page 4
September 7, 2018
Sexy Saturday Round Up
[image error]By Elizabeth Shore
Raise a glass – another fabulous weekend is upon us! Time to relax, unwind, and catch up on your reading – and viewing – pleasure. We’ve got love life predictions, a round-up of classic romance, and oh. Did I mention rapper Milan Christopher goes totally bare? Come on in, Smutters. The water’s fine.
Turns out, men exaggerate their number of sexual partners. Are you kidding me??
Now you see it, now you don’t. Oscar kills the new “popular film” category.
The Marquis de Sade’s wicked, wicked mind – as evidenced through illustrations.
Get your fans out! Rapper Milan Christopher lets it ALL hang out – literally. My, oh my.
This month’s new moon is only days away. What it means for your love life.
A BookRiot podcast on classic romance bestsellers.
Should you be concerned about your date rape fantasies?
Rev up your sex life by understanding your body. Did you know that you’re partly a wild woman?
Why people believe in witches, as explained by science.
Progress! India finally lifts its ban on gay sex.
The post Sexy Saturday Round Up appeared first on Lady Smut.
September 2, 2018
Everything Old Is New Again
by Kiersten Hallie Krum
It’s here again. The official end of summer and the start of the marathon run to the end of the year. Pools are closing. Barbeques are having they’re last hurrah. Commutes are once again clogged with cars. Kids are back in school. My Facebook feed is full of my friend’s frustrations and exasperation with their kids school lists and classroom requirements, followed soon by proud first-day-of-school pictures.
But while Labor Day is one last rest before that metaphorical rush to the finish, this time of year also offers a chance at new beginnings. New seasons of fall sports. New teachers and potential classmates. New work challenges in our day jobs. We may be leading the same lives, but every new season is alive with possibilities. Full with the chance for everything old to be new again.
[image error]Power up, ladies!
Anyone who has been in publishing for five minutes knows the constant change that happens in this industry. Flexibility is key and reinvention, common. What remains are good writing and great stories, whether under a different publisher or even, sometimes, a new name.
Last week, Lady Smut author Isabelle Drake shared the exciting news of how her previous released cowboy romantic comedy, Cowboy for Hire, once published by the now defunct Ellora’s Cave, is available again through her new publisher, Riverdale Ave Books.
[image error]
T0day, it’s my distinct pleasure to share with you the news that my novels, the award-winning Wild on the Rocks and its follow up, SEALed With a Twist, will be republished this Septemer.
Earlier this summer, the powers that be at Amazon decided to close the successful Kindle Worlds program under which my novels were published. As it turns out, this was the best thing that could happen. Both novels will now be available on *all* digital platforms. But wait, there’s more! They will also, for the first time, be available to international readers. But wait, THERE’S MORE. They will also, for the first time, be available in print!
I KNOW!
[image error] [image error]
I am super thrilled to be able to share these wonderful stories with so many new readers! These stories have traveled far and wide with me, through some significant life deviations and personal heartache. They have taken me on an adventure I never expected and its on-going. Come celebrate with me at the New Jersey Romance Writers Put Your Heart in a Book annual conference, October 19-20th. I love to meet readers in person and especially those who meet and laugh with us here at Lady Smut.
The only thing constant is change, they say. And the only thing to do with change is to make it work for you. With the change of the seasons comes the opportunity to reexamine and reinvent. To make something old, new again. I hope you’ll celebrate this change with me this fall and share with me some of what may be changing with you, dear readers, as well. Come take another wild ride with me–perhaps, for the first time.
Writer, singer, editor, traveler, tequila drinker, and cat herder, Kiersten Hallie Krum avoids pen names since keeping her multiple personalities straight is hard enough work. She writes smart, sharp, and sexy romantic suspense. Her award-winning debut romantic suspense novel, Wild on the Rocks, will be available this September. Visit her website at www.kierstenkrum.com and find her regularly over sharing on various social media via @kierstenkrum.
The post Everything Old Is New Again appeared first on Lady Smut.
September 1, 2018
Sexy Saturday Round Up
[image error]By Elizabeth Shore
Happy September, lovely Smuters. We’re creeping up into the time of sweaters and cider and boots – oh my! But all is good in Smutland because we’re still rounding up the goods for you all the year round – no matter if it’s beach weather or the time of falling leaves. So kick back on this long weekend and indulge yourself in some good reading. It’s all right here for you.
Flying solo this weekend? Fantastic! What better excuse than to spruce up on some new masturbation techniques.
Cuteness alert – proof that baby goats like it when you smile at them.
The secret to ageless skin may be in your blood.
You know a certain someone complains endlessly about fake news, but what about fake milk? That’s what’s gotten the dairy industry up in arms.
If you’re fretting over that latest Lancet study about one drink a day being bad for you, check this out.
How do you not get jealous if someone else is going down on your husband? Why, by going on a swinger’s vacation, of course.
Clear your mind in 60 seconds with this weirdly cool online meditation tool.
The post Sexy Saturday Round Up appeared first on Lady Smut.
August 31, 2018
I Want To Believe: Sex Magick and Strange Angel
August 28, 2018
Cowboy up! Cowboy for Hire…classic romantic comedy from Isabelle Drake
[image error]
A cowboy, romance, laughs, a sweet happy ending…Cowboy for Hire has all of that. It’s also one of my earliest releases – now rereleased from Riverdale Ave Books.
Remember Ellora’s Cave? I sure do. I had about twenty books with them. Cowboy for Hire was my second. It’s recently been releasesd and to say I’m excited is an understatement. For me, it’s like coming home. Some of my readers may not know this about me, but I wrote sweet, traditional romances before creating my first erotic romance, Everglades Wildfire. I was even a Romance Writers of America Golden Heart finalist in the Traditional Romance category.
It’s natural for people to ask writers of erotic romance why they write such sexually explicit stories. Interestingly, people don’t ask that of sweet romance authors. I think that’s because it’s apparent—everyone loves a love story. That’s what Cowboy for Hire is—a tender, light-hearted, sometimes funny, sometimes poignant, story about two people getting past the tangles of their past and getting tangled together.
~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt, aka, beginning of Chapter One:
Lang Thompson eased his foot off the worthless brake pedal and waited for the red Arizona dust to clear. A board swung above the cab of his truck, once, twice, three times. The rusty nail holding it gave up the fight and the weathered two-by-four smacked across the hood with a weary thump.
One more dent wasn’t going to matter.
He pushed back his beat-up Stetson, mumbling a string of words that in his childhood would’ve earned him an afternoon in the milk house. He didn’t need this.
Outside his window a hairy, black Australian shepherd barked and waved its tail.
“You don’t need to tell me, I see the mess.”
For a split second he considered backing out and leaving. The way the place looked, the owner probably wouldn’t even notice the new gaping hole.
No, he didn’t want any unfinished business hanging over his head when he hit the highway again to head south, away from the miserable memories he’d left behind. There was that and the fact that his conscience had an unfortunate way of popping up at the worst times.
He glanced down at the animal now sitting among the rubble that used to be the side of a barn. A tired, seen-better-days barn, but a barn nonetheless.
For the sake of his furry witness, he held back another string of words unfit for delicate ears as he shoved the door open and stepped out. He leaned against the truck and yanked his hat down to block out the afternoon sun. The owner had to be around somewhere.
“I guess I should’ve hung a no parking sign there.”
Lang turned to the shapely outline in the shadows. His bad luck kept getting worse. A woman. He didn’t want to shoot the breeze with a bored rancher’s wife.
[image error]“If you’ll tell me where to find your husband, I’ll straighten this out with him.”
As she moved into the sunshine Lang tried to convince himself he didn’t see her thick blonde hair or deep, blue eyes. He didn’t notice the way her breasts strained against that plain white T-shirt tucked neatly into her faded jeans, either. And that bolt of physical awareness that shot straight to his cock? It didn’t exist.
A blindingly bright smile spilt across her sun-kissed face. “I can’t do that.”
No, those sweet lips didn’t really have an effect on him either. But just to be sure, he stepped away as she came closer. “Do what?”
Raising her hand to shield her eyes from the desert sun, she glanced over her shoulder toward the mess. “Did you plow into my barn because you suffer from memory loss?”
Lang turned toward his truck. He had indeed plowed into the barn. Her barn. “Your barn?”
She nodded, then reached down to rub the dog’s ears, giving him the perfect opportunity to look down her shirt. Was that a white bra with pink lace trim?
Damn he loved lace.
Forcing his gaze back to her face, he asked, “You don’t have a husband I can talk things over with?”
Sunlight blinked off the golden strands of her hair as she shook her head and scratched under the animal’s chin. Her silence didn’t make sense. Why wasn’t she pissed? “Look, ma’am, I’m really sorry—”
While waving her hands to cut him off, she moved closer, her sexy, long legs making short work of the distance. “You don’t need to explain right now.”
Judging from the tilt of her head and the welcome in her eyes, he was missing some piece of a puzzle.
But what?
He stamped out his curiosity. He only wanted to take care of business, then get back on the road and find that ranch for sale his cousin Cole had badgered him into looking over. With that out of the way, he’d get back to his real goal, which was putting as much distance between the remnants of his old life and himself as possible. He tugged his gaze away from her all-too-easy-on-the-eyes face, glanced around but soon found himself looking her way again. “Where am I anyway?”
Her delicate eyebrows knotted together and her shoulders dropped. “You didn’t come about the ad for work?”
“Work?” He shook his head. “No. I was trying to turn around, get back on the freeway.”
Her kissable pink lips curved weakly, the glimmer in her eyes faded but didn’t go out completely. “You’re at The Circle Cat Ranch.”
“And where is that?”
“Cactus Junction.” She dipped her head the other way and a few tempting strands of silken hair slipped over her shoulder. “You do know what state you’re in?”
Arizona. Only a couple of hours from the Mexican border.
Her gaze circled his face, considering, then dropped lower, assessing. He straightened, planting his legs wide enough to place the bulge in his pants front and center. If she insisted on getting a good look at him, he might as well give her a view worth the effort.
As though she realized she was rudely looking him over like he was a colt on the auction block, she brought her attention back to his face and tried to cover her actions with a smile as she spoke. “You look like you could use a drink. I know I could.” She brushed past him without waiting for a reply. “Come on up to the house and have some lemonade.”
That place his cousin was so hot for them to buy was in Cactus Junction. At least he didn’t have much farther to go.
Not that he wanted to buy a place and start all over but Cole had cajoled him until he’d agreed to at least look it over. A promise is a promise. Even to a cousin like Cole.
The woman’s hips swayed invitingly as she strode toward the house. Each determined stride called to some better left unspoken part of him.
He grumbled and tore his gaze away. He’d written complicated entanglements with women off. For good.
The screen door smacked shut after she disappeared inside.
Why did it seem like the last shred of control he had over his life was slipping away? The hot wave of lust pooling in his gut shouted a warning, telling him to forget his so-called integrity and take the chance that once he got on the road he wouldn’t need brakes any time soon. He could always coast to a stop.
He groaned. All those hours in the milk house taught him more than to mind his tongue. He had to stick around and settle the issue at hand. That ranch for sale wasn’t going anywhere. With a quick glance down to be sure he wasn’t wearing any of his fast food breakfast on his shirt, Lang headed after the woman and the dog.
~~~~~~~~~~
Get your copy of this sweet but still hot cowboy romance direct from Riverdale Ave Books or Amazon.
~~~~~~~~~~
Isabelle Drake’s other new release, an erotic contemporary romance beach read, Make Me Blush, is currently available for free with Kindle Unlimited. Find her on Facebook or Amazon and follow her Instagram story for the most personal pics.
The post Cowboy up! Cowboy for Hire…classic romantic comedy from Isabelle Drake appeared first on Lady Smut.
August 24, 2018
St. Lucia, Tiffany Jewelry or the Perfect Bra
[image error]By Elizabeth SaFleur
According to my feed’s Facebook ads I need a vacation in St. Lucia, some Tiffany jewelry and a better bra. #Truth
I’d give up the jewelry for a better bra. To give up St. Lucia, I want a perfect bra.
I tried the bras from Third Love, the company that kept showing up in my feed. It promised me the best bra on the planet. It was to change my life. It was good, but still the most comfortable bra I own is the one tucked in the third drawer in my dresser. That is, it’s not anywhere near my body.
For 44 cents we can get a letter from Los Angeles to New York City in about 5 days.
In under 2 hours we can fly a human being from Washington, D.C. to Chicago.
In one day, you and your dog can have matching Halloween costumes delivered to your front door from Amazon.
What we can’t do? Get a bra that feels good.
This is what I want. I want someone to invent a store … Wait, scratch that. I want someone to come to my house. This person would be female. A bra engineer. She will have spent her life designing and building a bra you could sleep in and not realize you are strapped into …. something. You’ll have to be reminded you were wearing a bra at all when she gets done with you.
Because how hard can it be to measure around the chest part where you want the bra to sit (not where it often ends up)? How hard could it be to take that measurement to develop the band? Apparently, hard.
[image error]Lady Smut.
August 18, 2018
Sexy Saturday Round Up
[image error]By Elizabeth Shore
For you, our lovelies, we have Bond, James Bond (but oh, so much better), we have hygiene rules for the lady bits, and badass elf princesses, just to name a bit of the round-up. Enjoy!
Unleash your sexual fantasies because…
What kind of friend are you? Take this quick visual test to find out.
Should you be cleaning your vajayjay with soap?
What Gone Girl author Gillian Flynn can’t live without.
From Madeline:
Swim caps for black hair — the conundrum that keeps many black women out of the pool.
Idris Elba as James Bond–a history of the casting you’ve been waiting to see for 10 + years now.
Best one night stand stories–from Man Repeller.
Luthien–Tolkien’s original badass elf princess.
Who else is excited about seeing Crazy Rich Asians? Here are five movie things to know….
The FDA is about to approve an app that prevents pregnancy by tracking your natural cycle. But does it actually work?
The post Sexy Saturday Round Up appeared first on Lady Smut.
August 12, 2018
Sexy Sunday Snippet: Shakedown
For three years Trick Masters was consumed with revenge. Then she walks back into the door demanding an apology, money and restitution for what she suffered? How rich. She’ll have to earn her way back into his good graces starting with spilling the truth—which turns out neither of them has or ever did.
Read chapter one of the latest novella, Shakedown, which will debut the Shakedown series (debut 2019).
[image error]
~~~~~
CHAPTER ONE
“Blend in more? Just how does a cocktail waitress do that?” For ten minutes Rachel had stood in her manager’s office, feet aching and her tables unmanned, listening to this crap. She crossed her arms, an unwise, defiant move, but really, this “chat” was ridiculous. “Are you accusing me of something specific, Mr. Jones?”
“The other waitresses have implied you banter with the customers a little too vehemently. There’s flirting, and then there’s . . . well, they’ve complained that you lure—”
“Lure?” She choked back a laugh. She made better tips than the other girls because she was personable. A little harmless flirting never killed anyone, and she was well aware of the game she played. “People like my service. I thought you’d be pleased. In fact, I’d like more shifts. As you said, I’m popular. You’d make more money with me.”
“And, lose my other help.” He stood signaling the meeting was over. “Thanks, Rachel. I know this is uncomfortable. The men at Talman’s are used to getting what they want, but let’s make sure they know you’re not on the menu, too.” He winked.
Un-fricking-believable.
As she fought her way through business suits and raucous laughter to the waitress station at the bar, she attempted to shake off the insinuations her manager had lobbed at her. She needed this job, and she would not succumb to the suggestion she practically prostituted herself for tips. She wasn’t on anyone’s “menu.” So what if a few patrons had asked her out? Big effing deal. She’d turned them all down.
As she waited for Gabe to finish her cocktail order, she glanced down at her phone to see if Jay had returned her call. He hadn’t. Shocker. She wanted to float an idea by her stepbrother, launching a for-hire bartending business they could work together to get them both out of their rut. Jay would never get very far ahead by working on an oil rig, and she’d never finish her bachelor’s degree by waitressing. They both needed something new.
“Order up, Rachel,” Gabe said with a smile and nodded at the drinks he’d prepared. “You outdid yourself with this suggestion.”
“Thanks. They look great.” She adjusted a sprig of lavender on one of the martinis du jour she’d “invented” with Gabe’s help. The same four women, members of the Red Hat Club, came in every Friday with the same request: “Surprise us with the cocktail of the day.” So she did, and her imagination earned her a guaranteed thirty percent tip.
“Interesting, indeed.” A male voice sounded behind her.
Her heart rocketed up her throat, and her knees buckled. She set the tray down to the bar just in time. She knew that voice. It was rougher, deeper than she recalled, but there was no mistaking who that rumble belonged to. She slowly turned and couldn’t believe her eyes. Trick Masters. Jesus, he looked good, but then Trick always had.
“Rachel Grant. As I live and breathe.”
The heartless, deceitful thief peered down at her with those same blue-gray eyes she’d thought so kind—but weren’t. He leered at her with that same charming smile—but which hid a thousand lies.
The floor underneath her threatened to give way, and she stepped backward. He reached around and grasped the side of her tray to prevent the three lavender martinis from crashing to the floor. His suit coat brushed her arm, and just as if a lit match touched a puddle of gasoline, a ball of fire ignited in her belly and all the anger she thought she’d released years ago consumed her. Her therapist’s words flooded her brain. Visualize a stop sign whenever your mind starts to race. Stop the negative feelings, thoughts, and pictures.
“Rachel, you alright?” Gabe asked.
No, she wasn’t alright. At the sound of her name said with kindness, her anger backslid to grief. It started with a tickle inside her nose, then her breath burning hot in her throat, then the prick in her eyes, a cascade of emotion threatening to let loose.
Do not cry. Stop sign. Do not cry. Stop sign.
“Can I get you something else, sir?”
Gabe’s voice likely saved her from doing the unthinkable: shedding another useless, wasted tear over Trick Masters. She lifted her tray. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her come undone.
“Another club soda.” Trick leaned his elbow on the bar and stared at her. “Gabe, no offense to you, but Rachel’s got some interesting mixology ideas. You should put her behind the bar. She’s good at dishing out fantasies.”
His words snapped a lid on her simmering emotion and her anger returned.
“Rachel, I need to talk to you,” Trick said. A fire brewed behind those blue-gray eyes.
“No.”
The haughty bastard’s mouth twitched up at her tone. She’d meant the simple word to land hard—like the punch she never got to deliver on his smug, model-perfect face.
She balanced the tray on her palm and turned away. Her feet finally escaped the invisible concrete that had kept her in place for far too long. Two men parted for her to scoot by, one of them skimming her with his gaze. She hoped Trick saw the man’s admiration.
Shit. Claire, another waitress, stood in front of her table of The Three Suits who had “big tippers” written all over them from their cufflinks to their Berluti handmade shoes.
Rachel quickly hustled over. “Gentleman, I’m so sorry I’ve neglected you. Let me deliver these and I’ll pop back over.”
“No need. I’ve got it, Rachel,” Claire said.
The three men were oblivious, of course, and had returned to their talks of mergers and return on investment.
“What are you doing?” she whispered to Claire.
“Nothing more than you do every night.”
“I told you, those guys last night asked for me, so they got seated in my section. Get over it.” Fury had returned in full force, which was precisely the emotion she should be feeling right now given she’d just encountered Trick Masters. Her therapist would disagree, but whatever.
After delivering her martinis and ensuring her tip from The Three Suits wasn’t in jeopardy, she hustled back to the bar praying Trick’s presence was an illusion or a mental delusion. He couldn’t have been here. The betrayer couldn’t be here in Baltimore.
Stop sign. Stop sign. Stop sign.
Gabe leaned toward her so she could hear him over the symphony of happy hour chatter and laughter. “You know that guy?” He cocked his head toward the exit. She caught Trick’s broad back as he slipped through the revolving doors. “He told Mr. Jones you should join me behind the bar,” Gabe said and then straightened.
“Rachel.” Mr. Jones’s voice behind her made her jump.
“I’d be no good behind the bar,” she said quickly, turning to face her manager. Bartending tips sucked.
“I have a better idea,” Mr. Jones said. “See those two guys over there? They asked for you. I’m putting you on hostess duties. As you said, you’re popular.”
“But—”
“See me when your shift ends. We’ll talk details.”
She dropped her empty tray on the bar. Tears? No way. The wrath she’d suppressed for three years? Bring it on.
“I’m taking a break, Gabe,” she said. Breaks weren’t allowed during peak hours, yet fate presented a gift. She could finally confront the man who had derailed her life. From college student to waitress. What a cliché. She’d spent the last three years scraping dollars and change off dirty tablecloths because of that two-faced bastard.
She pushed her way through a gaggle of women holding martinis and then the revolving door. With any luck he’d still be in the parking lot. She found him leaning against a black sedan parked across the street, casually scrolling through the latest iPhone like he hadn’t care in the world. A hot ball of anger rolled over her so hard, her mental stop sign melted into a puddle. She jogged across the road to him, and immediately a woody scent of cologne wafted between them. The effing nerve of the man, the unbelievable gall to smell good, to look good, to . . .
“Rachel.” He straightened with that same smirk he’d delivered fifteen minutes ago.
He grasped her wrist in mid-air before she could land a satisfying crack on his cheek.
“What the hell?” he barked.
“How dare you be here!” she screamed. So much for her two years and eight months of therapy. Stop sign, meet Trick Masters, the man who ruined my life.
Join Elizabeth’s Sexy, Saucy, Sometimes Naughty list to get a notice when this novella releases. (Psst. It’s September 4!) JOIN HERE.
~~~~~
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: Shakedown appeared first on Lady Smut.
August 11, 2018
Sexy Saturday Round Up
[image error]By Elizabeth Shore
Happy weekend, sexies! From peeing on the president to career advice, it’s all here for you in this weekend’s round-up. Enjoy!
Some people who dislike the president vent their frustrations by peeing on him. Sort of.
Throwback film review! Two costume drama nerds discuss the perfectly perfect A Room With a View. I still swoon over that kiss.
Tips for the uninitiated about the giving a mind-blowing bj to the uncircumcised.
Why Diane von Furstenberg hates viagra.
And now for something completely whacked. People post edited photos of themselves and then get plastic surgery to actually look like the edited pics.
You’ve heard about blue balls, but blue vulva? Yes, it’s a thing.
It’s a job hunter’s job market, but how do you pick a career that actually suits you?
Mother of the year award! Mama duck leads 76 (!) ducklings across a river. So cute!
Sitting around this weekend with nothing to do? How about making chocolate liqueur. It’s easy!
5 movies and shows that create hilarious sex questions.
The post Sexy Saturday Round Up appeared first on Lady Smut.
August 4, 2018
Sexy Saturday Round Up
[image error]By Elizabeth Shore
Holy s**t, it’s August! I’m seeing back to school ads and summer’s trying to get away from us. Could someone plese call it bacK? “Heeeere, Summer Summer. Heeeere, Sumer Summer.” Barring that most elusive of seasons giving us months more of her time, we’d bettter take as much advantage as possible before it’s swept away in a swirl of dead leaves. Thankfully, no danger of that this weekend, my lovely smutties. The temps are warm and the cocktails cool. So grab one, why don’t you, and enjoy the fun reads we’ve gathered up for you this weekend. And if you happen to be at the Barnes & Noble in Edison, NJ on Saturday between noon and 4:00, stop by to say hello. I’ll be doing a “meet the romance authors” event. 10 romance authors – and chocolate.
Introducing the new lovehoney happy rabbit vibrators. What’s not to love?
Kink as your mental health therapist.
Do you ever get stuck trying to name your fantasy character? Fear no more! Here, all the fantasy, mystical, witches, vampires and more names in one .
And here, if your characters are talking smack, Shakespearean insults in a handy little guide.
Sexual harassment, The Bachlor style.
Alt-right dingbats say Sarah Jeong is a racist. The New York Times says f**k off.
Forget pills. Here’s how to speed your metabolism naturally.
The Appalachian feminist revolution.
Teens are snorting condoms why, exactly? Because they can?
Fake news evolving into fake events, and why it’s really scary.
The post Sexy Saturday Round Up appeared first on Lady Smut.
