Thursday, 31 January 2013

Guest blogger: Sam Crescent with Learning To Forgive #newrelease #contest

I have bestselling Author Sam Crescent on my blog today, telling us more about her latest release, Learning To Forgive. She is giving away two copies, so do leave her a comment!

Over to you, Sam!


Thank you, Doris O’Connor. for having me on your blog today. I would like to take the time to talk about my latest release, Learning to Forgive. This story is the third book in, The Sinclair Men series and has been the hardest story in this series to write.

Here is a bit about Learning to Forgive:

The Sinclair Men, 3
There is no boundary when it comes to love and lust.

David Sinclair has been in love with Molly ever since she walked into his life. The problem is, the Sinclair line is destined to only love one woman. At least, that is what he believes. When he gets Molly pregnant through one night of passion, he does the right thing and marries her.

After twenty-five years of being in his dead wife’s shadow, Molly demands a divorce. When David refuses, she has no other choice than try to make it work. She is in love with him and wants nothing more than for him to whisper those same words.

Can David rectify the sins of his past? Will he be able to move on and accept that Molly is the woman he loves? Or will her fail and finally know what loss truly means?

Molly and David have suffered through twenty-five years of marriage and Molly had finally had enough. My characters in this book were the oldest characters I’ve ever wrote about and with their age came new complications.

Twenty-five years is a long time to spend with someone but more importantly, it is a long time to go without love.

Have you ever had those moments throughout life where you feel you missed something? That chance to tell someone how you felt, but then at the last moment, it was lost? Or, when you look over your life with someone, do you look at the bad or the good?

Life is filled with a lot of if’s and to some people, regrets.

What I did with Molly and David’s story was to express that their were good memories mixed with the bad. In Blaze’s Second Chance and Taking His Woman, we saw the bad side to Molly and David’s relationship, whereas with Learning to Forgive, that was exactly what I wanted for their story.

It was a chance to move on and forget about the past. I think the most important element in this story was for both characters being able to forgive each other.

I didn’t want to write a story where the characters were hating each other. I’m an erotic romance writer with my main focus being on the romance. With this book I wanted to show the other side of the story. David did try in his own way to show his woman that he loved her.

Thank you for listening to me rattle on about my latest release and I shall reward you. I will be giving away two free copies of Learning to Forgive. Simply leave a comment and your email for a chance to win. 

Excerpt and Buy Links:

“I’m not nervous.”
“You know, you never got me a present this year,” he said, stopping when he stood in front of her.
“That’s because I’m here for you to unwrap.” She licked her lips looking every bit as cute as she did sexy.
“You’re my present?” he asked.
“Yes, do you want to unwrap me?”
“Nothing would give me more pleasure.” He opened the sash holding the robe together. It fell open revealing a beautiful red corset that pushed her breasts up and pulled in at the waist.
His cock went instantly hard. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. The corset attached to a pair of stockings, and she wore the smallest pair of knickers he’d ever seen.
“Is this all mine?” he asked, teasing a nipple.
She gasped, her head falling back onto her shoulders exposing the line of her neck. David pressed a kiss to each full mound loving the feel of them against his face. Her warm scent filled his head. Her robe fell in a heap on the floor as he cupped her waist bringing her closer.
“You’re all mine,” he said.
“Yes. Always.”
He pulled her large breasts out of the bodice so they spilled over the top. “Come here,” he said, moving backwards to sit on the centre of the couch. She straddled his lap, and he took full advantage of her swinging breasts. David suckled her nipples feeling them harden at his touch. Always so responsive.
She cried out, loving the feel of him touching her.
“I want you, so much,” she said.
I know what you mean,” he said.
David sucked each of her nipples until they were hard peaks. He couldn’t bring himself to remove her corset. He unzipped his jeans, pulled the length of his cock out, then pressed the tip to her entrance. She cried out when he plunged inside her tight, wet cunt.
Her fingers dug into the flesh on his shoulders. With the fire roaring in the fireplace behind her, David took her pleasure and gave his own as well. There was no stopping the passion that had ignited between them.

All Romance E-Books:


Evernight Publishing:

About ME:

Sam Crescent is passionate about fiction. She loves a good erotic romance and so it only made sense for her to spread her wings and start writing. She began writing in 2009 and finally got that first acceptance in 2011. 

She loves creating new characters and delving into the worlds that she creates. When she’s not panicking about a story or arguing with a character, she can be found in her kitchen creating all kinds of havoc. Like her stories the creations in the kitchen can be just as dubious but sometimes things turn out great.

You can find me here:




Yahoo Group:

Tuesday, 29 January 2013

#TantalizingTuesdays The Dress

Happy Tuesday, folks.  I have just about recovered from all the excitement that was yesterday's Release day. So, without further ado, here's your teaser for today.

She should move, do something, anything, but she was too afraid of what may come out of her mouth if she did. She knew the rules—she had always known them. It wasn't his fault this day had come too soon.
She clutched the pillow to herself and turned her head away from the mirrors—mirrors that had seen her writhing in pleasure so many times, her limbs heavy and languid with desire. If she looked at them all she would see was his head between her legs, her body arched and open to him as he played her like he did his piano. A shudder went through her and she shut her eyes against the memories assaulting her. She'd treasured their snatched moments together in this room. The love they'd shared, the whispered dreams and hopes, his scent, his weight, forever imprinted on her body. The sheets still held his scent, the pillow, traces of his hair.
She clutched it closer to her, crushing it almost in her desperate need to keep him with her. But she had to let him go. Her gaze fell on the crushed black dress on the floor. She had a funeral to go to.

Tantalizing Tuesday Authors use a photo prompt to tease in 200 words. Please click on the graphic to check out the other fabulous participating authors.

Let me know what you thought of my teaser today.

Till next week, folks.

D x

Monday, 28 January 2013

It's Release Day!! #squee Too Devious To Tame (Giovanni Clan, 3)

 When Giorgio Giovanni tracks the troublesome Jemima down in a hospital bed in Italy, he has one thing on his mind—revenge. However, the fragile woman he encounters is not the devious female he remembers. When it becomes clear that she is in danger, he risks everything to keep her safe.

Left for dead, Jemima wakes up in hospital, terrified, and with no idea of her identity. The angry man, who comes to claim her, is the only link to a shared past she can't remember. A past that threatens to destroy them, and all she has ever held dear.

With danger all around them, and their sexual chemistry off the scale, can they find their way back to each other, or is the past too devious to tame?

Be Warned: anal sex, rimming, bondage, forced seduction, sex toys, physical abuse of heroine


It's here, it's here!!

*dances around like a loon*

I can't think of anything nicer than starting the week with a brand new release, can you? I know a lot of you have been waiting for this book, so I hope you like Giorgio's and Jemima's story, and just to whet your appetite a bit, rather than the usual excerpt, which you can check out at Evernight Publishing I thought I would share the start of the book with you.

So, get a cuppa and enjoy :-)


Chapter One 

~Fear, it paralyses you, invades every pore of your body and mind, until you cannot think, cannot breathe, cannot move~
Stood under the steady stream of hot water, Giorgio Giovanni shut his eyes and let the water soothe his aching muscles, after yet another sleepless night. He'd thought he was over her, that he'd finally beaten his obsession, but it was useless. After the initial shock of the phone call had worn off, he'd set to work to find her, mindful of the promises he'd made to the better one of the twins. It had proven a futile exercise. Jemima Donavan had disappeared off the face of the earth, or so it seemed. For the second time in ten years, she'd successfully disappeared. Sure, he might have been able to find her back then, but he'd thought himself lucky to have escaped her clutches. Back then, he couldn't have cared less what had happened to her. Now—too much was at stake.
The insistent ringing of the telephone broke through his brooding thoughts and he swore under his breath. What now?  Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his lean hips. He flicked his slightly too long strands of wet, black hair off his face, and scowled at the phone trying to buzz itself of the vanity unit.
He rescued the smart phone before it clattered onto the marble tiles of his en-suite bathroom, and his expression darkened when he read the display.
"Si?" The single word sliced through the humid air like a whip with its terse command, and Giorgio's grip on the shower cubicle tightened. The knuckles of his hand turned white, and his dark eyebrows drew together in a murderous frown, as he listened to the hastily delivered words tumbling down the phone.
"Si. Grazie, dottore."
He clicked the phone off and ran a hand over his morning stubble. His eyes closed, he shook his head to clear the unexpected fog of emotion. So, she was awake at last.  About damn time. Another face swam into his mind. A worried, female voice pleading down the phone.
"Please, Giorgio, if you know anything, please. You've got to help. With your connections you can find her, right? I'm worried. Marco says not to, but I know something is wrong. Don't ask me to explain it. I just know she's in trouble. I know I have no right to ask this of you, but please, she's my sister."
He swore again. A loud string of vicious Italian swear words that reverberated around the steamed up room, and would have earned him a clout around the ears from Mamma G, had she heard him. And there was the other reason for his annoyance.
How his aunt had found out the ins and outs of his relationship with Jemima he had no idea, but she clearly had.
"You will do what is right for this family, boy. There has been enough drama. I expect you to put this right in any way you can. Failure is not an option."
He wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror with a hand towel and frowned at his expression. Was it any wonder sleep eluded him these days? With both his cousins happily married, Mamma G had set her sights on him. Living in Italy had given him some leeway up 'til now, but his time was up. She expected him to marry and start producing bambinos. He bit back a harsh laugh. He was one up at least, as for the other…
 Dannazioni, why did there have to be two of them? And why was his cousin married to the better one? The ghost of a smile crossed his stern features as he thought of Elise and Marco. After a turbulent first year of marriage they were blissfully happy, with a houseful of foster kids. Forcing Elise and his cousin together had to have been the only good thing the devious Jemima had ever done in her life, albeit without meaning to.
Elise's flamboyant twin sister left a trail of destruction behind wherever she set foot. This time, at least, she had brought that destruction to her own life, and had it just been her, Giorgio would have left her to rot in the newest, tangled web, she'd created. Call it Karma, but the little harlot deserved everything coming to her.  Giorgio crunched his teeth and willed his temper to subside. They said she had amnesia, couldn't remember who she was, or where she was—a byproduct of the blow to the head she'd received in the car accident that left her lying in a ditch.
Giorgio's finely honed instincts smelled a rat. That stretch of road was completely straight, visibility excellent even at night time, and Jemima was not known for her understated dress sense. She would have stood out like a beacon on that road, and there had been no skid marks. The driver had simply run her off the road, and left her for dead.
Clearly, Jemima had pissed off the wrong people, and until he knew what exactly she was involved in, he'd have to be on his guard. Lucky for her that he took his vows seriously, even if they meant nothing to her.
He shook his head in disgust at the besotted fool he'd once been, as unbidden memories swamped him. Never again would he be taken in by a pretty face.
Verona—Ten years prior
The screech of brakes echoed around the little plaza. A string of Italian curses followed, overlaid by even more colorful English swear words aimed at the driver of the little Fiat. The elderly man hung out of the window, gesticulating madly at the tourist he'd almost run over. The little, dark blonde bundle of curves flipped him the finger and aimed her Doc Martin clad foot at the side of the driver's door. The driver sped off with another curse, leaving a flutter of colorful paper behind.
The perfectly aimed high kick had given everyone in the plaza a perfect view of purple, lacy underwear as the lime green belt like excuse for her skirt flew up. Giorgio's smile deepened at the flash of creamy, pale skin of inner thighs that belonged to perfectly shaped, slim legs. The owner of those legs stood still for a minute, her full lips tightly pinched together, as she surveyed the scene of devastation around her. Arms on gently flared hips, her impressive cleavage rose and fell in her agitation, and threatened to burst over the top of her tightly cinched leather Basque. Rainbow chains of jewelry completed the bizarre outfit.
Madonna, eat your heart out.
At first glance Giorgio had her pegged for some sort of hooker, but looking closer he amended that silent judgment. The papers now settling all round her, were pieces of artwork—watercolors and black and white sketches—some of them ruined from the tires of the car, others curled at the edges—the puddles on the cobbled stones of the plaza now a mix of rainbow rivulets of water. He winced at the ruin of undoubted hours of work.
Sure enough, the young woman hunkered down on her haunches in an attempt to rescue as many of the pieces as she could, but it was useless. A gust of wind scattered the papers further. Like tumbleweed they tossed along the ground. One flew up in his face, and Giorgio scanned it with a low, appreciative whistle. She was good. Very good. His mind made up, he abandoned his espresso and joined her in the desperate hunt.
By the time he'd gathered an armful, the first few, fat drops of yet another downpour stopped them both.
"I don't fucking believe it! What next? Trust me to come to Italy and get nothing but fucking rain and stupid dimwits who've won their driver's license in the fucking lottery." The honeyed tones washed over him, and he had to suppress another smile at the discrepancy between the words and the cultured English accent.
"I fail to see what's so bloody funny? Are ye just gonna stand there, staring down my cleavage, or are you gonna actually help me? Blasted Italian male idiots." The accent slipped again, into something more like the colloquial English Giorgio was used to from visiting his cousins in London. It seemed the young lady in front of him had many talents. Chocolate brown eyes glared daggers at him, and she pushed the wet strands of her hair off her face with an impatient wave of her hand and a muttered, "Men!"
She hoisted the plastic folder of her work higher up her waist, and he couldn't be sure whether it was tears or the now steadily falling rain that caused the wetness on her face. Without saying a word he grasped her elbow and steered her under the cover of the nearest shop canopy. The shop itself was closed for lunch, and they had to huddle together to hide from the sheet of rain now pelting the plaza.
"Jesus, if I wanted rain, I could have stayed in London." She shrieked as another gust of wind blew the rain under their shelter, and Giorgio's free arm went 'round her waist instinctively to draw her closer into his warmth. The other still clutched the artwork he'd managed to grab before rain stopped play. The temperature had dropped dramatically with the storm, and soaked through as she was, she must be getting cold. This close to her he could see the gooseflesh breaking out on her exposed skin.
"Did you get caught in the earlier downpour, too?" he asked. Her eyes widened in surprise, and Giorgio suppressed another grin. "Si. I speak English, and this blasted Italian male idiot heard every word of your earlier outburst. And for the record, this idiot did not win his driver's license, though I grant you I can't be too sure about the other fellows you encountered."
A slight flush spread across her cheeks at his words, and her eyes narrowed, as if to assess him better. The slow appraisal she gave his body had his insides tighten in need. It had been a while since he last lost himself in willing female flesh, and this little spitfire standing close enough to him that the scent of her skin invaded his senses, promised to be an interesting interlude. Already the inherent contradictions he'd witnessed piqued his interest. He flashed her his best killer smile and was rewarded with a haughty sniff and sideways glance from under her naturally long eyelashes. An enticing little cluster of freckles on her jaw drew his gaze, and he watched her pulse speed up with a satisfied grin.
Definitely not immune to him. Not that many women were. Giorgio was used to female adoration. With classic dark looks, a six foot plus frame, and the Giovanni name behind him, women were drawn to him like moths to the proverbial flame. Little did they know that the vineyard was in severe financial trouble, thanks to the debt his drunkard of a father and said father's flamboyant string of ex-wives had accrued. Having recently come into ownership of his heritage, Giorgio had been hard at work trying to rebuild the vineyard's reputation, which had led to a pact with the devil, and had left little time for pursuits of the flesh.
So, he was long overdue a little indulgence, and this little female shivering in his arms would do just fine. The rain had changed to a light drizzle, but the clouds hung low in the sky and foretold more heavy rain to come.
"We should take our chances while we can." He glanced at the ever darkening sky and tightened his hold on her waist. She stiffened in his arms and pushed against his chest.
"We aren't doing a thing. You may think you're God's gift to womankind, but this English girl is not one of your easily impressed local girls." She glared at him, and he let her go. But damn it, if the barely banked passion in the expressive pools of her brown eyes didn't have him grow hard as nails.
"I appreciate you picking those up for me." She gestured to the bundle of papers tucked under his other arm. "But thanks to that idiotic countryman of yours, I'm now behind on my assignment. So, if you're planning on a roll in the hay with me, you can forget it. I've lost weeks of work, dammit."
"I was more thinking of several rolls on satin sheets, but whatever floats your boat, dolce mia. I aim to please. Giorgio Giovanni at your service." He flashed her another practiced smile that changed to one of genuine amusement as her mouth formed into a silent O.
"My. I'm surprised you fit under here with an ego that size, and is that name supposed to mean something to me? You're local royalty or some such claptrap, that I should shiver in my boots? Spread my thighs and lie back and think of England? Well, dream on, buster."
Her tone mocked him, but her breath hitched when he leaned in closer and traced the shell of her ear with his tongue. He bit down on the soft flesh, and the hand still resting on his chest curled into the fabric of his tee. Her barely suppressed moan shot straight to his cock, and he tightened the hold on her waist. His fingers found the silky skin where Basque and skirt didn't quite meet, and he swallowed his own groan as his cock pressed painfully against the denim fly of his jeans.
"Whatever makes you think I'd want you lying back? Far too vanilla for my liking. No, I like my women screaming my name as they beg me for their orgasm, whilst my cock is so deeply buried in their ass they see stars."
She went very still at his whispered words, and just as he wondered whether he'd read her all wrong, she cupped his aching shaft through the fabric, barely holding in his erection.
"Well, in that case, you'd better show me that you can use this big boy." She smiled up at him, and what little blood hadn't already shot to his groin pooled south. He yanked her hair back to make her look at him, and her lips parted. He wasted no time slipping inside the moist, warm haven of her mouth. She met each one of his bold strokes with one of her own and ground her pussy into his groin. He caged her in against the stone wall of the patisserie, and took the kiss deeper. By the time he wrenched his mouth away, they were both breathing heavily and the musk of her arousal hung heavy between them.
"Dio santo, dolce mia. Who are you?"
Giorgio watched the nurse fuss over the frail woman in the hospital bed, and he forced himself to unclench his tights fists. Seeing her awake made the change in her even more shocking. Gone were the curves he remembered losing himself in. The pale woman huddling on her side barely made an indent under the starched linen covers. Her brown eyes looked too huge for her heart-shaped face, her mass of tangled, dark blonde hair the only splash of color to break the sea of white surrounding her. Oxygen tracks were still under her nose, the rapid beat of the monitor testament to her agitation. She looked terrified, the expressions in her doe-like eyes reminding him of a frightened rabbit caught in the headlights. Bile churned in his gut. She must have looked just like that when the hit-and-run driver bore down on her. Giorgio swore under his breath when she flinched away from the young male nurse trying to take her pulse. The Jemima he knew took every opportunity to flirt. She positively craved touch and attention, did not shrink away from it like a wilting flower.
The rush of protectiveness he felt, when she drew her knees up to her chest and screwed her eyes shut, took him by surprise. He didn't need to complicate this. Jemima was an accomplished actress, a liar, and a cheat, who had taken him for a fool. He needed to hold onto those facts and ignore the way his blood heated, seeing her bite her plump bottom lip. He'd made a promise, one he would stick to, but that didn't mean he would ignore this opportunity for revenge. She would rue the day she crossed him. 
Giorgio took a deep breath and schooled his features into a well-practiced mask of indifference, as he pulled open the door to Jemima's private room, and addressed the doctor writing in her notes.
"Dottore, how is my wife?"


Buy Links:

Sunday, 27 January 2013

#SexySnippets from Too Devious To Tame (Giovanni Clan, 3) week four

It's time for another Sexy Snippet this week, once again taken from Too Devious To Tame which releases tomorrow.

*jumps around in excitement*

So, brace yourselves. I picked a scorching hot seven sentences for you today. You have been warned....

To set the scene... this is their second sex scene. The first did not go as well as it should have done, so Giorgio has a point to make, and he is nothing if not determined.

He wanted her so wet and swollen that she had no choice but to come for him. He wanted to see her clit proud and available to his teeth and his lips, as he wrought every last shudder from her body. Her hips bucked off the bed when he used his thumb to part her pussy lips. He blew across the wet slit and watched as the pink deepened and more of her juices gathered at her entrance. She squirmed under him, and he did it again, drawing small circles around her clit, careful not to touch it. Her breathing sped up, and that little nub of pleasure swelled and grew in front of his eyes.
Throwing her a wicked smile that had her bite her lip, he dipped his head and replaced his fingers with his tongue. 

When Giorgio Giovanni tracks the troublesome Jemima down in a hospital bed in Italy, he has one thing on his mind—revenge. However, the fragile woman he encounters is not the devious female he remembers. When it becomes clear that she is in danger, he risks everything to keep her safe.

Left for dead, Jemima wakes up in hospital, terrified, and with no idea of her identity. The angry man, who comes to claim her, is the only link to a shared past she can't remember. A past that threatens to destroy them, and all she has ever held dear.

With danger all around them, and their sexual chemistry off the scale, can they find their way back to each other, or is the past too devious to tame?

Releases tomorrow! 

Til next week, folks. Don't forget to check out the other fabulous authors partipating. If you write romance and would like to join in, then check back on our sign on page tomorrow, when the link reopens for next Sunday.

We'd love to have you with us.

Also we are now on Twitter

And Facebook

Have a great Sunday, folks!

D x

Saturday, 26 January 2013

Book Spotlight: The Lotus Ascension by Adonis Derereux #contest

I always love having these two on my blog. The awesome team have agreed to hold a Giveaway  All you have to do is leave them a comment, and tell them something surprising about your own Love Life. (Psst, spoiler alert - don't tell them I told you - The end of the book is shocking!)

Go on, don't be shy, and don't forget to leave your e-mail address.

Take it away, Adonis...


Adonis Devereux is two people made one. He grew up in Michigan and in rural Indiana, a Midwestern boy with a passion for story. She was rootless, a Virginia native who lived in London, Paris, and Rome before her parents settled just outside Tokyo. Like him, stories burned in her.

They met in university at a poetry reading, and their love story continued into marriage, graduate school, and half a dozen children. Now he teaches at a Japanese national university, and she teaches children to invert fractions and decline Latin nouns, all while researching ancient Roman and medieval recipes for their novels.

Together, they are Adonis Devereux, and they’re proud to have published their entire line of Gilalion books with Evernight. They’re sad to say goodbye to the fantasy world that has cradled seven amazing couples, but they’re excited about moving on to a new line of books.


The Lotus Trilogy, 3
Konas Seranimesti was present eighteen years ago when the last Lotus in Arinport gave birth to twins, Soren and Sillara. Sillara was betrothed to Konas's brother the day of her birth, and Konas has fallen in love with his brother's promised wife.

But what can Konas do? Sillara is the daughter of a Lotus, and her life has been planned out in advance. She has never been allowed to choose anything for herself. But when her twin brother, Soren, who is himself feeling the pressures of his station, joins her on a desert hunting trip arranged by his best friend, everyone's plans for Sillara are ruined.

Lost in the desert and assumed dead, Sillara is given choices for the first time in her life, but how can she choose a love she has never recognized? Will Sillara's choice ruin Soren's chance for love? And can Konas win a heart promised to another man?

Be Warned: public exhibition, anal sex, multiple partners, m/m sex, f/f sex, bondage, spanking, erotic asphyxiation


Soren had no more time to pursue his dark thoughts, for the shaking of the tambourines summoned everyone to the main tent. A male and female pleasure slave, clad in near-nothingness, stood at the entrance and greeted the revelers. Nathen gave Orien a light kick.

“Get up, sleepyhead. Delight calls.”

Orien groaned, squinted against the light, and rolled over. He rose, shook the sand from his massive, muscular frame, and stretched. His face broke into a wide grin. “Is it time to travel the marshes already?”

Soren nodded.

“Merieke brought plenty of herbs, so no one has to worry about bastards, so I am going to take one of the girls for myself. You all can fight it out over whoever's left.”

Orien, Nathen, and Soren entered the tent and were carried along on waves of music, incense, and herbs. Soren watched as a slave crushed the petals of a purple flower in his hand and threw it into the brazier. Immediately he felt his mind slipping away to that thrilling realm of supreme carnal gratification. The slaves had some touch of their master, and though Konas was not here, his influence remained. Soren knew he was in for another unforgettable orgy.

Merieke came, too, and her natural beauty shamed the crafted appearances of the pleasure slaves. She wore nothing save her jewelry, and even her brothers turned and gasped at her arrival. Gold and malachite earrings dangled from her lovely earlobes, and a wide necklace of gold and silver fashioned in the likeness of two birds' heads looking in opposite directions lay across the upper half of her breasts. Her lips were red as the ripest apples, and black wings of kohl rose from her eyes, giving her a cat-like look. Soren was almost convinced that she was purring. A belt of thin gold coins linked together hung on her hips, drawing his attention to her exposed and beautiful pussy. Clean. No hair. Just the way the Sunjaa liked it. But most magnificent of all was Merieke's headpiece, an ornate black wig decorated with cold-worked glass of varying colors.

“Hello, boys,” she said.

No one responded, so stunned were the men by the sudden revelation of her charms.

Soren noticed that she held something in her hand, but whatever it was, it was small enough to be concealed in her closed fist. The only thing he could see was the long ribbon of silk that hung from her hand. It put him in mind of something fun, and with a grin, he walked over to a nearby casket and rummaged through its contents of toys in search of a blindfold.

Orien took one of the slave-girls and commandeered her. Due to Orien's unpleasantly oversized cock, that was no more than Soren expected. That left two male pleasure slaves, one female, and Merieke.

Merieke walked over to Soren, reached up inside his skirt without breaking eye contact with him, and grabbed his cock. “It's about time, don't you think? We've known each other all our lives, and still we haven't fucked?”

Soren untied his skirt and let it fall. “Well, I've been at sea.” He liked bantering with her.

Merieke's eyes glowed. “From what I hear about what you sailors do to each other at sea, I'd say you're more than ready to take what I'm offering.”

Soren grinned and ran his hands through his long hair, freeing any small tangles from his horns. “I'll make your first time with an Ausir something to remember.”

Merieke went up on her tiptoes and kissed Soren's mouth. “And I'll make your first time with me unforgettable.”

Soren smiled back at Nathen, who nodded his approval. Merieke's brother turned his attention toward a female pleasure slave, invited a male pleasure slave to join them, and moved off. Knowing that he was going to tell Sillara everything about this afterward, Soren resolved to thoroughly thank Merieke for her kindness in giving Sillara her first climax.

The part of Soren that was the attentive lover wished he had asked Nathen what kind of lover Merieke was, what she liked and disliked, and what she liked even if she did not know she liked it or just would not admit it to herself. But the other side of Soren, that adventurous side that liked a bit of a surprise, was glad to be sailing into uncharted waters. The sea had never looked more inviting.

Soren sensed that Merieke, in her excitement, wanted to lead, and he obliged her. He knew that some people dealt with their nervousness by overcompensating in matters of control. Soren could wait to assert himself; besides, he was happy to see what Merieke would do.

Merieke laid Soren down on a pile of soft pillows and leaned over him, arching her fingers in order to press her nails into his chest. Her hands played with Soren's body, traveling over his shoulders, and down his muscular arms. She traced the wide wings of the proud falcon tattooed beautifully across his chest. She leaned in closer to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, and as she tousled his locks, she kissed his throat. Soren moaned and relaxed into the pillows. Merieke only used her left hand. Her right hand still held her secret.

The passion of Merieke's kisses increased, and she, too, moaned as she rubbed her tits against Soren's skin. Soren kneaded her breasts, ending each long caress in a pinch of her nipples. He breathed deep of the spices in the fibers of her wig, and his cock surged to life. In moments it was achingly hard. Merieke trailed her kisses across his collarbone and down his chest. She stopped at his nipple for a nibble, and Soren thrust his cock up into her stomach. The hard shaft slapped against her skin, and she looked up into his eyes and smiled.

Her kisses continued down to his navel, and there she paused to lick. With her left hand, she reached down and grasped Soren's cock, working it in preparation for her tongue. She jacked him off against her throat, moving the head of his cock down her jawline and across her chin. Merieke's tongue flicked out, almost touching it but not quite. Soren smiled at her game. Soon it would be his turn.

Without warning, Merieke devoured Soren's cock, the pleasure of which caused him to suck in his breath and hold it. Her lips held his hard shaft against her ever-moving tongue. Her head bobbed up and down, and Soren groaned in pleasure to see his cock disappearing into the mouth he had wanted to fuck for so long. Merieke looked up into his eyes while she sucked. She knew exactly what to do.

But then something happened that surprised and impressed Soren, a man impressed by nothing where sex was concerned. Soren was so far more advanced than any of his lovers that no one had ever been able to catch him unawares in the bedroom.

Merieke did. As she sucked, she dropped both her hands below Soren's legs so that her hands were out of sight. Soren knew she was up to something, but he could not guess what. Then he felt something cool against his asshole, and he looked down in surprise. Merieke managed to smile while still keeping his cock in her mouth.

Soren was open to anything, so he trusted Merieke to please him. So far she was doing an excellent job. He relaxed his asshole and let Merieke slip inside whatever she wanted to put there. Whatever it was, it was not very big. Not as big as a cock. And then a most pleasing vibrating sensation filled his back passage.

Other Books in The Lotus Trilogy:

Where to find more about Adonis Devereux and their books:
How to purchase:
Evernight Publishing

Friday, 25 January 2013

Sexy Man Friday

It's that time again! The research for this post is definitely my favourite part of the week!


Now, my first hunk is a shameless plug for Too Devious To Tame, which releases on Monday. Joe Manganiello is the inspiration behind all three of the Giovanni cousins, and this pic just screamed Giorgio at me.

  *sighs to self a little*

now for your more usual eyecandy...

And as I just love a man in the shower.

Have a great Friday, folks!

I also have a guest on my blog today, so do scroll down and check out Ella Grey's new release, The Schoolteacher And The Dom. You won't be disappointed.

Til next week

D x

Meet Ella Grey and The Schoolteacher And The Dom #guestinterview #releaseday

Help me to give a warm welcome to Ella Grey. I've collared her today to tell us more about herself, and her new release.

Make yourself comfy, Ella :-)

Q. Can you tell us a bit about yourself?

A. I’ve been writing stories since I was fifteen but it’s only as I hit my mid-twenties that I got published. I live in a house that is populated by a big monster, a little monster and a creature I call the pest, otherwise known as the cat.

Lol, cats do tend to think they own the place, don't they?

Q. What made you write ‘this’ story?

A. This story pretty much hit me out of nowhere. I could picture a scene with a woman sitting in a restaurant with the world’s most boring date. She ends up asking a cute guy at the bar to ring her phone so she could pretend that she had a family emergency.  That was my first insight to the characters Nola and Alex. It took me awhile to come out with backgrounds for them.

Q. Tell us about your cover.

A. I love this cover, especially the little black flower detail in the banner. I was a little worried that the title, sub-title and the authors name meant that there might be too much writing on the cover but I think it worked out while. This is actually the second cover. The female model on the first one that was sent to me, just didn’t work. I couldn’t look at it and go ‘That’s Nola’ but the second one I got was perfect. I hope that you agreed.

Q. Describe a typical day’s writing for us

A. I write when the little monster is in bed, which means I have about three hours before I head to bed myself. Those are the joys of having a three year old. If the muse has been talking to me, I’m usually working on a WIP. If the muse is being a bitch, I usually catch up on my reading. 

Ah, yes the challenges of writing with little people underfoot!

Q. What inspires you?

A. There is not just one thing that inspires me. Sometimes it’s music and others it’s something that I might have heard. There are also times that a dream might inspire me. I have some pretty weird dreams.

Lol, so many of my stories come to me in dreams!

Q. If you weren’t a writer what would you be?

A. Good question. I really wish I could say astronaut or brain surgeon but I’d probably be an English teacher or a librarian.

Nothing wrong with those :-)

Q. Do your characters ever surprise you?

A. Sometimes, Nola especially surprised me in this story with her willingness to try new things. I thought that I’d have to have a little argument with her but nope.

Q. What could you not do without when you’re writing?

A. I couldn’t write without coffee, chocolate biscuits and good music.

Q. What words of wisdom do you have for the aspiring authors out there?

A. Never give up. Everyone might not like your work but in the end you don’t write to please everyone. You write for yourself.

Oh so very true!

Q. Where do you see yourself in ten year’s time?

A. I’d probably still be huddled over my netbook, hopefully not fighting writers block and earning enough money to pay the gas bill.

Q. Do you ever suffer from writer’s block?

A. I don’t think it’s something any writer can avoid. So yes, I do suffer from it but I usually turn my attention to something else.

Q. What other books can your readers look forward to?

A. I have a free read coming out through Evernight Publishing called ‘The Dare Encounters: Chance’ I also have the next stories to write in both series.

Q. And finally can you share an excerpt with us?

 Nobody likes being alone on Christmas, which was the only reason Nola Pryce was on a date with tall, dark, and dull. It had been a moment of weakness that made her say yes. Looking at him across the table made her wish she’d said no.
She’d stopped listening to the conversation about ten minutes ago. Now she was just randomly nodding and taking sips from her cup. Her attention wandered to checking out the bar that they’d decided to meet at. She liked it even if it was obvious that Tim didn’t judging by the way he wrinkled his nose as he’d walked in. It had a homely feel to it. The customers chatted with the staff, which created a low-key but friendly atmosphere. Her attention drifted to the framed newspapers on the wall. There was a history here that she liked.
It was the only good thing about the date. At least it’s an early evening dinner date. There wasn’t going to be that awkward moment at the end of the night when she didn’t invite him up for coffee. There was no way in the hell this would be turning into one date of many.
He’d been talking about himself for nearly an hour, his latest subject being a business trip to Japan. Somehow he’d even managed to make that sound boring.
“I just need to go to the ladies’ I’ll be right back.” Nola got to her feet, collecting her bag. She needed to fake an emergency or something. If she sat through anymore of this bullshit, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.
She noticed the guy looking at her from the bar as she went in search of the ladies’ room and smiled at him. When she finished up in the restroom, she headed back to the bar. A plan had already begun to form in her head.
“I need a favor.”
The man’s eyes widen at her forwardness. He put down the burger he’d been eating and used a napkin to clean sauce from his lips. “And what would that be?” he asked as soon as his mouth was empty. He was smartly dressed in a suit which had an impeccable cut but he looked much more relaxed than stuffy Tim. At that moment he looked like he was trying hard not to smile.
“I need you to call my phone in about five minutes.”
He looked around her, checking out Tim. He didn’t look unimpressed. “Trying to get out of a bad date?”
“You’ll be saving a person’s life.”
He looked a little surprised. “Yours?”
“No, his, I might actually have to kill him. Somebody that boring shouldn’t be allowed to live. I’d be doing the world a favor.”
He looked back at her solemnly but his eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter. “I’ll call it. I wouldn’t want you to get yourself arrested.”

I love those last few lines! Thanks so much for stopping over, Ella, and Happy Release Day!

Thanks for having me on your blog Doris J

The Schoolteacher and the Dom is available at
And it will also be available at Amazon and Allromanceebooks.

Wednesday, 23 January 2013

Book Spotlight on Shyla Colt's Vixen Claimed #Contest

I give you the fantabulous Shyla Colt today. I've read this story over the weekend and Phew It's hot. So, if you're looking for a hot little menage with a back story that tugs at the heart strings, then check this out. I'm looking forward to the rest of the series.
Shyla is offering one lucky person a chance to win a free copy. Just comment and tell her what you, the reader, like to see in a Menage.

Good Luck, folks!

D x


Bio Shyla Colt is a sassy stay at home mom who lives in Southern California with her Marine husband and two tiny tots. When she’s not crafting, teaching Abc’s, or playing make believe, she writes full time, and works a job in the publishing industry. As you can tell she thinks sleep is overrated.
A fan of romance from the moment she picked up her first paranormal romance at thirteen, she strives to provide you with stories that bring the heat, make you fall in love with the characters, and show the power of true love. She invites you to come and get lost in her world.

A pin-up model , a Brit and a mechanic. It sounds like a punch line to a joke but it's the start to the first story in my series of novellas , VintageVixens.  Devlin, Claire, Judy, and Dahlia aren’t your average heroines. Tattooed with attitudes, and sass, these best friends have unique journeys on their way to love.  In Vixen Claimed we explore Devlin’s story.


When Devlin's car breaks down on a stretch of empty highway, with the sun going down, the last thing she feels is lucky. A moonlight stroll to what looks like an abandoned garage brings her face to face with the first man who broke her heart and shattered her belief in love.

Jace has spent the past six years furious at Devlin for a rejection she never truly delivered. The truth sets them both straight and allows a chance to begin anew. But this time around Jace has a very special request, that they include his best friend.

Plagued by sexual impotency after being in a wheel chair after a career ending car accident Tristan has grown bitter and disinterested in the opposite sex. The sexy vixen who steps in to the shop unexpectedly changes all of that. Problem is she's his best friend's ex.


“You know, Tristan,” she placed her hand on his knee, “if you’re not really attracted to me, it’s okay. I know how Jace can be once he gets something in his head.”
“No I am—very attracted.”
He pinned her with blue eyes darkened with lust. The stark need made her gasp and her fingers dug a little deeper into the flesh of his knee. “I didn’t want to be a third wheel in what you two have going on. That’s happened enough.” His eyes lowered. Devlin held his chin until he glanced up to return her gaze. “That’s over now, Tristan. From the moment I set eyes on you, something sparked. It was a feeling I’d only experienced once before and it scared me. Still does honestly. But I’ve never been the type to run from things and I do want this—want you.” She moved in and captured his lips. The intensity of the moment took her breath and she pulled away.
“I second that, dear.”
“I want to do it again.”
Their lips melded once more. He explored her face with gentle sweeping touches that made her feel cherished. His tongue entered her mouth, starting a sensual tango that engaged her senses and consumed her. He smelled like man and citrus. The skin on his neck was warm beneath her hands. Her legs parted and her eyes popped open to see Jace kneeling between them.
“Don’t stop, baby,” Jace whispered. He hooked his thumbs in the elastic of her panties and rolled them down her legs, leaving them at her ankles so her movement was constricted. Tease. All thoughts were obliterated by the feel of Jace’s magical fingers caressing her honeyed heat as Tristan worked her mouth in tandem. They were like two parts of the same whole. Tristan pulled up her shirt, gliding his hands underneath to cup her breast through her bra. He pinched her nipples, plucking them like a gifted musician with a guitar.
“This needs to come off,” Tristan growled. “Arms up.” She replied without thinking, hissing when the cool air caressed the chocolate drops of her nipples, making them pebble further. He sucked one into his mouth and Jace thrust a finger deep into her tunnel. Emotions rocked her from above and below. Her pussy quivered.
“Damn, you’re gushing, baby. You like what we’re doing to you, don’t you?” Jace asked.
“Yes,” she said, her voice strained and low.
“Look at how wet she is for us, Trist.”
She opened her eyes to see her blond lover peer down. His nostrils flared as Jace moved back and spread her legs as wide as her underwear allowed.
“You smell ripe for the picking, Devlin,” Tristan said.
“Have a taste,” Jace said, holding his soaked finger up to his friend. Tristan’s pink tongue shot out to sample her juices off Jace’s finger and she came on the spot. Once minute she was fine and the next she exploded like a bottle full of soda and Mentos.
“Holy shit, Devy, don’t stop!” Jace said.
He rubbed her clit with his thumb, prolonging the orgasm as her honey shot out in spurts. A mouth joined his rubbing. Her heart stuttered in her chest when she opened her eyes and saw blond hair where she expected black. Tristan pierced her with his stiff tongue over and over, burying his face as far as it would go as Jace flicked her sensitive clit.
“We want you to come for us again, Devy. Spray your sweetness into Tris’s mouth. Give him a little taste.”
“Oh God.” A lusty moan ripped from her mouth when Jace pinched her clit. Tristan was like a ravenous beast, never letting up. Soon the stimulation was too much and she detonated.
“Tristan!” She imploded and screamed like she was being tortured, which in a way she was. A delicious punishing she would misbehave to receive time and time again. Devlin slumped back in the chair, letting them move her limbs around like a doll.
“Catch your breath, Devlin. We’re not done with you yet.” The wicked tone in Tristan’s voice tightened something low in her stomach.
“I-I can’t,” she huffed.
 “You can and you will,” Jace whispered from his new position beside her. She lifted her heavy lids and found herself under the million-yard stare of her sexy Brit. Jace kissed her bared shoulders, whispering in her ear.
“I want to watch you fuck him, Devy. Make him come with that tight little pussy of yours.” Tristan sat back against the couch, reclining as he stroked his thick prick. He was shorter than Jace, about seven inches, but he made up for it in girth. Thin veins ran along the underside playing peek-a-boo in her vision with each stroke he made. Desire pooled in her belly, heavy and hot, and nectar flowed from her center. Maybe I can do this again.
“I can feel your liquid heat on my knees. You’re ready for me, aren’t you sweet girl?” Fuck, how had this seemingly shy man become the pied piper of dick?
“Shit, yes.”
“Oooh, you’ve a dirty mouth, dove.”
“Keep talking to me in that sexy lilt of yours and you’ll see just how dirty I can be.”
“Mhmm, is that a promise? Lift her up, Jace. Let’s show our girl what I have to offer her.” The possessive noun made her heart soar.
“You ready to take him, baby?” Jace asked.
She crawled up his body, raising up and taking his tip into her pussy. Even with lubrication, he stretched her wide, pushing the limits of pleasure and pain as she shimmied down to his base.
“You feel so good wrapped around me love.” She pushed up and lowered herself down slowly, taking his entire length inside her. Pleasure sparked along her nerve endings as she bounced up and down on his cock.

Vixen Claimed can be purchased at the following places :

Want to know more about Shyla and her work ? You can find her at the following places.
Twitter: @shylacolt
Be sure to keep an eye out for her upcoming release from Amira, Sorrow’s Muse

Previous Works