Friday, 31 May 2013

It's #Release Day *dances* Under Orders with @evernightpub #ROTG

Happy, Happy Friday. Extra happy as it's Release Day!

Under Orders is here! This story started on this blog right here, as part of #Tantalizing Tuesdays. You can read the original flash HERE.

Lots of you wanted to read more, and the story kept niggling at me to write it. Once I did, it took on a mind of its own. I leave you with an exclusive excerpt. Enjoy!


Who ever heard of being ordered to wear vibrating panties to a business meeting? The visiting CEO may be sex-on-legs-gorgeous, but Anna knows a sexual harassment case when she sees it. No one is going to order her to entertain Jonathan Symmonds—no one but her own body it seems.

Jonathan proves a hard man to resist. When he reveals his secret identity, this daughter of a slayer ought to be running for the hills not play submissive to his dark side.

Will passion and a shared past be enough to keep them together, or is their bond doomed to end at the stake?


He ran his heavy lidded gaze slowly over her body, and Anna had to force herself to sit still and not fidget. Every cell in her body yearned to take him up on the promise in that heated perusal, and she dropped her knees and squeezed her thighs together at his next words.
“Most would say it has given them the most intense orgasms they ever experienced. They may not remember the ins and outs in the morning, but they do remember the pleasure, little one.” He paused again, his smile sin itself as he stepped close enough to trail just one finger up her exposed leg. It left a trail of gooseflesh in its wake, and when he tapped her knee she couldn’t help but open to him.
“You and I both know that I could have taken you anytime. I still could, despite you knowing what I am.”
Anna’s breaths came in short agonized pants of pleasure, and she put up no resistance when he grasped her knees and yanked her ass forward until she was half hanging off the edge of the chair. He folded her dress up in slow measured moves, exposing her to his hungry gaze, and she gasped when he dipped his head and inhaled against the sodden fabric barely covering her slit.
“Jonathan, please…”
“What?” He mumbled the word against her clit, the vibrations of his deep rumble against the sensitive nubbin the most exquisite torture. The soft click of his fangs sent a shudder of anticipation through her, and her mouth went dry when he ran his fangs along her inner thigh. Digging in just hard enough to leave marks, he didn’t break the skin, and Anna found that she desperately wanted him to.
As though he’d read her mind he raised his head from between her legs.
“Do you want me to take away your choice? Have my wicked way with you, so that you can justify this to yourself in the morning, rather than face up to your desires? Is that what you want me to do, little one? Is that what it takes for you to look at yourself in the mirror?”
His growled words hit too close to the mark, and Anna frantically shook her head.
“Yes, no, I mean …. Fuck.” All coherent thought fled her befuddled brain when he took the elastic of her thong between his teeth and pulled. The lacy fabric bunched inside her slit, exerting pressure on her clit. He moved his head from side to side creating friction against that bundle of nerves, and Anna gave herself up to sensation. Her head fell back, and cool air hit her swollen folds when the fabric finally gave way with an audible rip.
“So wet for me, so responsive, little one.” His breath feathered over flesh slick with her arousal, and her cunt clenched in need.
“Look at me.” She responded to that edge of command instinctively, and he smiled his approval when her eyes locked with his.

“You need to ask me, little one. I will not make this easy on you. If we’re going to do this, if we’re going to explore this connection we share, it has be to your decision. Your body tells me all I need to know, but I want your mind, your heart, your soul, or I will walk away. I will make you forget you ever met me. I’ve done it before, and I will do it again to keep you safe.”

Buy Links:

Flash Fiction Friday - The Romp #FFF

Happy Friday, Folks. You get two blog posts from me today, because as well as the day to flash it's RELEASE day.


So do scroll up and check out Under Orders, which was once a flash just like this one.

Enjoy The Romp!

She stopped in front of her favourite picture like she always did. Tugged away in a corner of the gallery it called her on some primal level she couldn’t even begin to explain herself.
She sensed rather than heard his approach, and closed her eyes as his shadow fell over the painting. Long fingers brushed her hair off her neck and she shivered as his hot breath skittered over sensitive nerve endings.
"Back again, I see. Does that mean you're ready for the re-enactment, pet?"

He dropped a kiss on her thundering pulse point, and she could feel his smile.


Friday Flashers have 100 words to tell a story from the provided picture prompt. Do check out the other flashers. You won't be disappointed. :-)

Till next week, folks.

D x

Thursday, 30 May 2013

Spotlight on The Alpha's Ardor with @AuthorRBrochu #MM

I have a treat for you today. Rebecca's latest tale is top of the bestseller lists, and she's here to give you a little sneak peek. Enjoy!

Author Bio:
I am proud to say that I live in a small town in North Carolina, surrounded by fields and fresh air. Naturally I spend most of my days crouched in front of a keyboard or curled up with a book.
As an avid video game and anime enthusiast, it is an understatement to say that I have a vivid imagination. With a collection of games, dvd's, and books that number too many to count I am often neck deep in some fantasy world.
I am also the proud owner of two haughty cats and one encouraging dog.
I first stepped into writing through the dangerous world of fanfiction. If not for the wonderful people that I met there I would have never had the courage to submit my first novella.
I truly do owe it all to the readers.
Thank you so very much.

Wolves of Flathead, 1 
Declan Adair and his twin brother Lachlan are wolf shifters with no home or pack and a dark past that makes them hated by other weres. Hunted and forced to separate, Declan finds himself chased north and straight into Flathead, a large sprawling territory that is home to a single massive pack.
Unsure and more afraid than he wants to admit, Declan’s situation is only made worse by his undeniable attraction to the Flathead pack’s alpha, Law.
Law is everything an alpha should be: powerful, controlled, and surprisingly enough to Declan—kind. And when Law seems to want Declan just as much as Declan wants Law, it’s unbelievable. With a past full of hurt and the knowledge that the only one he can trust is his twin, Declan is torn between the way he knows the world works and the possibility that the alpha’s ardor might just be real.
Be Warned: m/m sex, knotting

Declan froze for a long moment, but when Law moved to pull away, regret heavy on his face, he surged up off the ground, wrapped his arms around Law’s neck and pulled him back down into a bruising kiss.
Law was the one to gentle it, the one to pull back an inch or so despite Declan’s attempts to keep him close and to sweep his tongue lightly across the seam of Declan’s lips. Declan parted them instantly, eagerly, and met the slick, hot slide of Law’s tongue with his own. Law’s stubble rasped against Declan’s face, and he knew the skin there would be rubbed raw if it kept up, but he didn’t care. The feel of it, the slight rasping itch of it, sent heat spiraling through him, made him buck his hips up and into Law’s. The move caused their cocks, both bare and beginning to thicken, to rub together in a way that made Law groan low in his throat and press down against Declan harder.
Declan spread his legs wider in response, let Law settle down against him completely even as he whined low in the back of his throat. Law shushed him with gentle sweeps of his tongue as he ran long fingered hands through Declan’s disheveled hair. Their hips rocked against each other rhythmically as they kissed and a mix of sweat and pre-cum slicked the way for their cocks sliding against one another in the growing dampness between them.
Declan felt the coil in his gut begin to tighten, felt the heat of it in the base of his spine, and he could tell from the way Law’s hips were beginning to falter that he was close too. Declan couldn’t suppress the sharp bolt of fear that flared through him in that instance. Once this happened there would be no going back. Law tensed and froze on top of him and when he broke the kiss they were currently wrapped up in, Declan could see the confusion and concern in his face clearly.
“Little wolf?” Law questioned him softly, gently.
“Will this be alright? Will this be enough for us to be in the pack?” Declan blurted the words out and knew instantly that he’d said the wrong thing from the way Law’s face went dark and his shoulders rigid.
“What the hell are you talking about, Declan?” His voice was hard and surprisingly cold. Declan shivered slightly and wished he could curl in on himself, wished he wasn’t so vulnerable and open the way he was nestled underneath Law’s hard body.
Buy Links:

Wednesday, 29 May 2013

I write Sex - get over it!

Happy Hump Day, folks.

As my guest blogger for today had to pull out, I thought I would talk to you about something that's been niggling at me for some time—the perception of Erotic writers. I apologize in advance as this post may well turn a bit ranty, but you see, we, that is hubby and I have been at the receiving end of some astonishing developments over the last couple of weeks.
I'm not going to call names or point fingers, but the upshot of it all is, that we, as a family, are leaving a church we called home for the last fifteen years. Again, there are many reasons influencing our decisions, but things came to a head last week.
Why? I tell you why, my writing.
Now, as far as I am concerned my faith has nothing at all whatsoever to do with my writing. I use the gifts God gave me. I have been asked why I don't write Christian books? I tell you why, because that's not the way my muse works. I've tried to turn the heat down, but you know what, the simple truth of the matter is that my characters like sex. Shocking, I know. Here's another shocking revelation. I like sex! I like writing it, I certainly enjoy that side of my relationship with hubby, and I don't know about you, but a mind blowing orgasm certainly has the power to turn a shitty day into a good one.

Of course sex is not the be all and end all of any relationship, or in my writing for that matter. Whilst you will find scorching hot sex in my stories, there is always romance, emotion, and a happy ever after.
So why then is my writing so 'shameful' that I have been asked to brush it under the carpet like some dirty little secret?
Love is love, be that between two or more people, or between same sex couples. I don't judge, and I'm pretty sure the God I believe in doesn't judge either.
No, judging seems to be entirely a human trait. It is perhaps ironic that the very community who tends to be judged the most, the BDSM community, has in my experience been the least judgemental.
You see, this is another thing. I write BDSM amongst other things. Not only do I write it, I'm a collared submissive to my hubby.
Now, I'm sure the good folks who think my writing is so shameful have now gone into apoplexy, but you know what, that is THEIR problem. Hubby and I decided long ago we would never make apologies for who or what we are. We have never conformed, nor do we wish to, and we're both the type of people that push boundaries, just because we can.
Tell us we can't do something, and we'll prove you wrong! And newsflash—we were given our brains for a reason—to use them.
I have Sir's permission to share all this. Most of our friends know this anyway. The ones that didn't, well, surprise!
So, that's the reality. I'm sure what people think is at the other end of the spectrum.
Which brings me to my next point. What do these righteous folks think us Erotic writers do? I'm sure they're expecting me to have orgies every night or something. Well, the reality couldn't be further from the truth.
First and foremost I am a wife and mother. We have nine children, the youngest being only 20 months old, and as any parent knows, having little ones underfoot kind of curtails those activities somewhat. Add BDSM into the mix, and chances for Sir and I to play are few and far between. I'm not complaining. It is what it is, and as the kids grow up, we will have plenty of time for all that.
So whilst I do dip into my personal experiences when I'm writing, most of it is this wonderful thing called Imagination. I tell stories—that's what I do. It's called fiction for a reason. Besides to my knowledge I have never had sex with a vampire or a shifter, though hubby does have a delicious growl when he's in Dom mode.
So, if you're still with me after all that rambling. I'm an Erotic writer, and I love writing. I fully accept that my stories are not for everyone. That's fine. It's called freedom of choice. I don't force you to read them, or those of my fellow authors. So why then do I know so many of my fellow authors, who suffer for their art? I know authors who have lost their job, others have to keep their writing completely hidden from everyone, even members of their own family, and a male author was attacked for writing Erotic romance?
Why? Why are people so threatened by those of us writing sex? We are all the product of it after all. The human race would be extinct, if we didn't enjoy sex.
It's a mystery to me, it really is.
I leave you with one final comment from my hubby and Sir.

"We're on this earth for a short space of time, so be true to yourself—always—and be you. Don't let other people bring you down, or make you conform. Never be ashamed of who you are."

Tuesday, 28 May 2013

#TantalizingTuesdays - Forever

Another Tuesday - another flash.

Enjoy Forever...

Source: Pinterest

The water was colder, much colder than it had been that day. Their movements were stiffer, and the music only played in their heads, but none of that mattered. They were here on their beach, all these years later.
Ethel would not have thought it possible that she could be happier, now, thirty years later, than she had been on their wedding day. She smiled into Henry's eyes, and even though he could not see her anymore, he smiled back. The connection they shared had only become stronger through the years.
He stumbled and she caught him. Concern for the man she loved made tears well up in her eyes.
"Don't cry, my darling. I'm still here."
His once so strong voice was a mere whisper across the background of the waves rolling over their feet, yet his inner strength remained. He pulled her close, his hot breath feathering over the spot under her ear that always turned her insides to mush.
"Guide me home, my love. There is something else we have to do."
He kissed her tears off her face, and she felt the shudder go through him, as he tried to hide his pain.

"I love you."

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, 27 May 2013

Interview with Siobhan Muir - Not A Dragon's Standard Virgin

I have the lovely Siobhan Muir in my hot seat today, so settle back and find out more about this fab author, as I probe her with my nosy questions.

So great to have you here, Siobhan :-)

Q. Can you tell us a bit about yourself?

A. How to answer that question…I’m a scientist with the desperate need to find the magic in the ordinary. So I write it into every one of my stories, blending realism with fantasy to make a kick-ass adventure with hot sex.

Q. What made you write ‘this’ story?

A. Actually it was the frustration with the double standard placed on men and women when it came to sex. For the last few centuries women were supposed to be chaste (and have no sexual desires) just because men couldn’t tell when a woman was likely to get pregnant. It was acceptable for men to “sow some wild oats” but if a woman was caught having sex before marriage or worse, pregnant from it, it was her fault, not the would-be father’s. Oh, yeah, that set my fury going. So I wrote Not a Dragon’s Standard Virgin with the question, what would I do if I had to choose between being fed to a dragon because I hadn’t had sex or being thrown out of town because I gave my virginity away? In this day and age it’s not as big a deal, but in 1547 Scotland, virginity was a commodity men traded like baseball cards. Isabelle Andersen answered my question the way only a forthright Scotswoman could. ;)

This is so going on my TBR list. It sounds fab!

Q. Tell us about your cover.

A. Harris Channing designed my cover. In fact, she’s done all my Siren covers. She always nails the characters and the backgrounds perfectly. I told her I wanted Scotland without a castle, and a leg-less dragon. She found some of the best images to put together. I’m really pleased.

Q. Describe a typical day’s writing for us

A. If I’m not promoting a new release, like I am now, I usually come home from dropping the kids off at school and allow myself 30 minutes of fooling around on the internet. That includes catching up on emails, Facebook, and promoting on Google Plus, Facebook, and Twitter. After that, it’s open a world doc and away I go on a WIP. I only have about 2 hours to write each day because the youngest gets out of school early and I have to be there to pick her up. Sometimes I even get time in the evening after the kids go to bed, but that’s also my time to be with my husband and I don’t squander that if I can help it. ;) Next school year, I’ll get six hours to write rather than two, and I’m looking forward to that.

I hear you. It's two years for me before my youngest goes to school full time. I'm dreading it and looking forward to it at the same time, because it will mean much more time to write.

Q. What inspires you?

A. Music, movies, other books, social dilemmas or problems, questions to be answered, and magic. None of my stories are simply from this world. There’s always something just a little magical about them – or I couldn’t write them. I need a little extra beyond the day-to-day.

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

A. What do you mean? I’ve been a writer since I was 9 years old. There is nothing else. However, I have been trained as a mammal paleontologist specializing in Pleistocene aged canids (wolves, coyotes, and foxes). I still do a little paleo on the side – in fact, I have to clean up a specimen and identify the teeth left in it for a colleague this summer. Eep! Better get on that.


Q. Do your characters ever surprise you?

A. Yes, they do. The first time was when Jeff Lightfoot, the hero from Queen Bitch of the Callowwood Pack, started talking to me. I’d never had a character talk to me before. And then he went on to do something I didn’t expect. Jon from Not a Dragon’s Standard Virgin developed a clumsy side. Didn’t see that one coming. :D

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

A. Water or coffee. Sounds strange, doesn’t it? I live in the Mojave Desert, the driest desert in North America and I always need something to drink. Not only does it keep my hands busy when I’m thinking something out, but it keeps both me and my Muse from drying out while the inspiration is flowing.

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

A. First, edit out the word “aspiring”. You’re either a writer or you’re not. Aspiring means to “think about” doing something, not actually doing it. If you want to be a writer, write. Even if it’s crap. You can always go back and edit the daylights out of it. I do that all the time. :D Also, if you’re serious about being a writer, get your voice out there. Make a blog and get Twitter and Facebook accounts. It may take awhile, but readers want to know more and interact with the writers they like. Starting this now gives them a place to find out and try out your writing. When you write on a blog, it lets everyone, including prospective agents, editors, and publishers, learn your voice and your style. Blogging will also allow you to refine your particular style.

Fabulous advice right there.

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

A. Multipublished, well-known with large fan base, and royalties that can help with the monthly expenses. J

Q. Do you have a favourite quote?

A. “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judge that something else is more important than fear.” – Meg Cabot

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

A. No, but that’s because I have several stories going on at once. If I get stuck on one, I move to another and let the Muse run on that one while the first one percolates in the back of my mind. Eventually I get ideas to push it forward. Queen Bitch sat still for about a month before I knew what would happen after the Selection Party.

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

A. Not a Dragon’s Standard Virgin should be on Amazon soon, along with A Hell Hound’s Fire, a short free read introducing my new Cloudburst, Colorado series. You can find A Hell Hound’s Fire in most retailers from my Books page on my website. The second book in that series will be out June 24th, entitled The Beltane Witch, and it’s a hot one. Later this year, I should have a ménage ‘a SEALs ready for publication.

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

Isabelle damn near dropped the pottery flagon she’d cleaned when the stranger stepped inside her father’s tavern.
Glory be! I have never seen such a beautiful man.
He stood tall, even taller than Angus MacLeod, the blacksmith’s son who stood at exactly six feet. Dark-brown hair hung, braided at his temples, with the rest pulled back to the base of his neck with a leather thong. Brilliant blue eyes the color of lupine flowers looked out beneath dark, arching brows and long lashes. His neatly trimmed beard framed a generous mouth beneath a slightly flattened nose that looked as if it had been damaged in a fight and healed incorrectly.
Isabelle trembled with his intangible power, reveling in the sight of his masculine beauty. His rugged features made him look mysterious and dangerous, sending a feminine pulse straight to her womb. If ever a man existed to whom her virginity should be given, this was him.
Oh, aye, and now all you have to do is ask him. Her gaze swept down his body as he pulled his plaid off his head and surveyed the great room. William MacLeod, the only elder still left in the Careless Wench, stood talking with her father, and the stranger strode toward them with the sinuous grace of a warrior. He reminded Isabelle of the stories she’d heard about William Wallace of old. The sword sticking up over his left shoulder and the chainmail shirt confirmed it, but so did the way he moved.
She sighed a little as he gave her a view of his broad back, and she had the odd urge to see if it was as heavily muscled and powerful as she guessed.
Bloody hell, lass. Focus on what you’re doing.
“Welcome to the Careless Wench, good sir. Are you lookin’ for a pint?”
“To be sure, but also for a warm bed. Have you one of those as well?” The stranger’s voice painted images of comfort, contentment, and far more lustful things in Isabelle’s mind.
“Well now, I may have one for you at that. Isabelle!”
She set down her cloth and straightened her skirt before answering her father’s summons. She could feel the violet gaze of the stranger on her, and it made her skin tingle, but she kept her own eyes on her father’s chin.
“Aye, Father?”
“Have the extra rooms been cleaned since our last guests?”
Isabelle wanted to snap at him that of course they’d been cleaned, but it would only irritate her father. Usually she liked nothing more than to needle the philandering prick, but she made herself play the dutiful daughter in front the elder and the stranger. She wouldn’t give them a reason to select her for the Virgin Sacrifice until she’d secured her ineligibility.
“Aye, Father, they have been cleaned.” The beautiful warrior met her eyes, and everything heated as if she’d caught on fire. How could one look do such things to her?
“Very well.” Her father narrowed his eyes and grunted with suspicion, but he turned to the stranger with a smile. “There be a free room at the top o’ the stairs that should suit you well enough. Say five coppers a night with supper.”
“Done.” The warrior reached beneath his plaid for his belt pouch, but his gaze returned to Isabelle. “How much for a bath? It’s been a long road between them.”
Oh, Lord, why does the idea of this man bare tease me so?
“Three coppers, four if you want some of my wife’s special soap cakes.” Her father always pandered Elizabeth’s soap cakes for no other reason than to get extra money out of people. The soaps smelled heavenly, though, and her stepmother made them from fresh herbs, improving everyone’s scent. “They cause a healing, they do. Best soap cakes in the Highlands, I warrant.”
The warrior chuckled, and his laughter sent a shiver up her back. He could laugh around her any time he pleased. The timbre of his amusement made her think of the richest velvet sliding against her skin. She clenched her teeth as her womb tingled, and she shifted her legs to relieve the ache. Dear Goddess, perhaps she’d already become no better than a brazen hussy if his laughter could get her wetter than a soft Highland rain.
“Four coppers it is, if I can have it tonight.” The warrior’s brilliant blue eyes fastened on Isabelle as he smiled, creasing the edges of his mouth upward. She wanted to kiss them.

Sounds fabulous, Siobhan. Thanks so much for stopping by today.

Stalk Siobhna in these places



BLURB for Not a Dragon’s Standard Virgin:
Sacrificial virgins are so sixteenth century, but unless Isabelle finds a man to take her innocence, she’ll likely be next.

For Isabelle Andersen, being a virgin in a dragon-plagued Scottish village is dangerous. Potentially the next dragon sacrifice, Isabelle’s only solution is to lose her innocence, and fast. All she needs is one handsome stranger she can coax into bed, but Lochmore Cott doesn’t get much in the way of visitors.

Jonarrion Swiftwind has sworn off virgins. The last time he took one to his bed, his family paid the price for his lust at the hands of her demon-possessed father. He’s made it his mission to destroy all demons. Nothing distracts him from killing this demon until lovely Isabelle offers him tea. And her virginity.

Just one night of passion makes Jon realize he doesn’t want to let the independent beauty go. But will Isabelle accept him when she discovers the only real dragon in her village… is him?

Siobhan Muir lives in Las Vegas, Nevada, with her husband, two daughters, and a vegetarian cat she swears is a shape-shifter, though he's never shifted when she can see him. When not writing, she can be found looking down a microscope at fossil fox teeth, pursuing her other love, paleontology. An avid reader of science fiction/fantasy, her husband gave her a paranormal romance for Christmas one year, and she was hooked for good.

In previous lives, Siobhan has been an actor at the Colorado Renaissance Festival, a field geologist in the Aleutian Islands, and restored inter-planetary imagery at the USGS. She’s hiked to the top of Mount St. Helens and to the bottom of Meteor Crater.

Siobhan writes kick-ass adventure with hot sex for men and women to enjoy. She believes in happily ever after, redemption, and communication, all of which you will find in her paranormal romance stories.

Siobhan’s recent release, Not a Dragon’s Standard Virgin, is from Siren Publishing, and she has published Queen Bitch of the Callowwood Pack through Siren, and Her Devoted Vampire through Evernight Publishing. She also has a free read out entitled A Hell Hound’s Fire introducing her new Cloudburst, Colorado series.

Sunday, 26 May 2013

#SexySnippets from Under Orders (week 2) #firstkiss

Happy Sunday, folks and welcome to another set of Sexy Snippets

I am bringing you another seven from my paranormal story Under Orders, which releases on Friday 31st.

*excited shimmy*

In this little snippet they are in Joanthan's hotel suite, and Anna has just realized what he is. She should be terrified, but somehow she just can't resist a taste of her own...

“Anna.” Her name rolled off his tongue, as much a warning as a promise, and she smiled up at him. Standing on tip-toes she slanted her lips against his, needing to taste him, to prove to herself that he was indeed alive and not a figment of her imagination.

He groaned into the kiss, and when their tongues touched, he took over. He claimed her, deepening the kiss, until she fisted her hands into his shirt, clinging on, lest her legs fail to support her. He released her just enough for her to draw much needed air into her lungs, before he delved back into her. The scrape of his fangs across her kiss-swollen lips, the way he held her head permitting her no movement, the way his other hand trailed to her ass, molding it and pushing her closer into him, all served to stoke her need into an inferno.

Who ever heard of being ordered to wear vibrating panties to a business meeting? The visiting CEO may be sex-on-legs-gorgeous, but Anna knows a sexual harassment case when she sees it. No one is going to order her to entertain Jonathan Symmonds—no one but her own body it seems.

Jonathan proves a hard man to resist. When he reveals his secret identity, this daughter of a slayer ought to be running for the hills not play submissive to his dark side.

Will passion and a shared past be enough to keep them together, or is their bond doomed to end at the stake?


Do check out the other Authors participating today, and why not join us next week? Sexy Snippets are seven sexy sentences taken from a work in progress or published work.

Saturday, 25 May 2013

Take A Leap Of Faith with @bexbrennan

I'm very happy to have R. Brennan in my spotlight today with her new release Leap Of Faith. I fell in love with her characters Richard and Faith when I first met them in the Vanilla-Free Christmas Anthology and I'm so glad she decided to continue their story.

This is a hot, short read you will not want to miss out on!

Blurb: New submissive, Faith Daniels is completely infatuated with her amazing Dominant, Richard Halstead, so when he sends her a summons via text message a full day before they had plans to meet, she can barely contain her excitement.

But, Richard didn’t just invite her over for a play date. Not this time. He has a proposition for Faith. One that could change the rest of her life.

Buy Links:

Excerpt (Mature Audiences Only): Strong hands grabbed hold of her kneecaps, startling her. Richard jerked her legs apart until she knelt in an exposed V position. His voice arrived close to her ear, sending a chill through her. “When I ask you to kneel for me, this is how you are to do it. I want you to display your desire. Show your need with the pride of a submissive. Do you understand me, Faith?”

Her body ached for his touch. The brush of his hand, the caress of a breast. Anything. She’d even welcome the slap of his paddle if it meant he’d touch her again. “Yes, Sir.” Her voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.

“That’s my girl.” He slid a finger along her wet opening. Half a breath later, she heard his lips smack together, as if he’d just finished eating barbeque ribs. “Sweet nectar.” His hand returned to probe her slit. A finger entered her.

A gasp of pleasure tore from Faith’s throat, contorting into a whimper when he withdrew from her quivering pussy.

He traced a fingertip over her mouth, coating her lips with the evidence of her arousal.
The carnal scent of her juices surrounded her, pushing Faith toward the mindless black abyss of wanton need. Her nails dug into the flesh of her forearms as she willed herself to resist reaching for him again.

Two fingers forced their way into her mouth. “Taste your desire.”

Faith sucked them clean, her tongue swirling sensually around each offered digit.

Richard abruptly withdrew his hand and moved away.

Solitude rushed in to fill the space he left behind, leaving Faith breathless.

He signaled his return a few pounding heartbeats later with the ‘snap’ of his leash on her collar. “Come, pet,” he commanded.

Author Bio: R. Brennan is a subbie brat with a bitch streak, an IT geek for the state of New York, and reformed gaming addict raising her daughters in the rolling hills of Upstate NY. (You know, where it takes a ten minute drive to buy a gallon of milk, and the smell of cows lingers on the breeze.) The brave are welcome to follow her blog: or stalk her on twitter: @bexbrennan Often sarcastic, blunt, and NSFW, but usually entertaining.

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Friday, 24 May 2013

Flash Fiction Friday - The Resignation #FFF

Boy, am I glad to see Friday come round. It's been one heck of a week, as those of you following me on Facebook will know.

Who knew writing Erotic romance could cause such a ruckus, eh. Silly little me thought I was entertaining folks, and not undermine the pillars of church society. Yeah, am being snarky on purpose! Onwards and upwards, however. The week also brought an acceptance for my Sex-Android story, so it wasn't all bad news - quite the opposite.


So without further ado, here is your Friday Flash - Enjoy!

        She was going to be the death of him. How could he write out his resignation when she was under his desk, milking his cock? This was wrong on so many levels, yet felt so damn good.
        He stuffed the paper in his mouth to stop himself from groaning out loud, as she dragged her teeth from the base of his shaft all the way to the top. Her fingernails dug into his thighs and he swore under his breath, when she swirled her oh so clever tongue around his head and then swallowed him whole, just as the door opened.


Friday Flashers have 100 words to tell a story from the provided picture prompt. Do check out the other flashers. You won't be disappointed. :-)

Till next week, folks.

D x

Thursday, 23 May 2013

A day with @RavenMcAllan's Regency characters #menage Cecilia's claim

Hi all, it's Raven again…yes I know shh, I'm getting to be a fixture around here. I think I'm the lucky one to be honest. Well it has its good sides and bad ones. Let's be fair, when my characters go off and talk to Doris and leave me behind with my grandson, that’s both good and bad.
Good, because I get Budda all to myself.
Bad, because I know fine well what Doris can get up to…and as for Philippe and Caleb? The mind boggles, even If Cecy is there to try and keep them in check…anyway, Budda and I have a date with a very large bowl of ice cream and a chocolate milk shake.

Doris here, as you can see that Raven has taken over again. Mind you, she did leave me with her characters...

*grins to self*

On with this interview!

Raven grabs Budda by the hand and whispers things like "love from Grandma," and "gooey" and "shall we?" I have a feeling I should be a bit worried. However there's no time.

"So hello," Philippe bows over my hand. How come all of Raven's heroes are charmers? Just for once it would be nice to have a healthy dislike for one.

R Not my heroes sorry, a baddy maybe.

Damn I thought she couldn't hear me…

R I know how your mind works…

I knew she'd say that.

"Now, bonjour Philippe. Comment ca va?  (I thought I'd do my French bit first, and hope he replies in English."

"Hello Doris. To meet you at last in person, instead of watching you put red type over my words is enchanting. Why do you mess with my words eh?" His look is 100% Gallic, and I tell you he smolders. I'm squirming, when Cecy punches him on the shoulder. It's not a gentle punch either. The other guy—can I call regency gentlemen guys I wonder—winces and not just from embarrassment. He looks at me, and I tell you his eyes aren't smoldering, they are twinkling. Oh my, what a twinkle.

"It serves him right for being rude," Caleb, well I guess it's Caleb, says with a grin. "He was a bit miffed when you made Raven cut out his lovemaking in French. After all you can sound a lot more romantic and be much more explicit in French."

He bends forward and whispers in my ear. Darn it I'm sure I'm the color of the tomato I had for lunch. "Shall I translate?" he says with a wink.

"Er no thank you." Even I know what he said, and it's as well I know he's teasing.

Cecilia looks across to him, and I swear he blushes. If she could bottle that look, and give it to me to sell I'd be rich by Friday. It's a lethal 'behave or else' look. Even I'm wondering what I should have done and I haven't. Ah maybe ask some questions?

"So, er well it's good to have the three of you on my blog today. I know we're all celebrating the release of your story, Cecilia's claim.  I love the story. Was there any part of it you would've preferred Raven to miss out?"

All three of them shake their heads at the same time. Well that was unequivocal. "Why not?" I'm genuinely interested. After all some parts are very hot, and I reckon very intense and private.

"It is our life." Cecelia replies. "All of it is what makes us who we re. Good bad or indifferent. If we are to tell our story, that is what we do."

Okay that makes sense.

"So what's the best bit for you in the book?" They burst out laughing. Now it's my turn to go red.

"When we take Cecy in the…" Philippe pauses, winks and laughs. "In the glade."

"At the very end." Caleb says. "And I'm not giving any spoilers here."

"When I meet them each time." Cecy grins. "And one look and my insides melt."

Now I'm melting. Them a screech of laughter from Budda in the next room brings me out of my reverie. Last time Budda and Raven disappeared whilst I interviewed her characters I spent three hours getting chocolate off Budda and a leather sofa. I look at my notes. Caleb leans over my shoulder.

"One to six are no-nos, don't even bother. Seven, only in the sunshine, eight, he does if he thinks he can get away with it, and nine never ever. Ten I love them equally."

"What?" Philippe pushes Caleb to one side. "Oh yes, I agree. Except I never try to do that, it is beyond my capabilities."

Cecy takes the paper from my hand. I'm limp with all the testosterone floating about.

"Philippe De Caen, do not dissemble. You do, whenever you can. And I let you. And believe me, Doris, Caleb is not far behind. They are as bad as each other. In fact I think we compliment each other in every way. Now let's see what else you ask."

I sit back and let her get on with it.

"Which side of the bed do you like?" She's reading my notes.
 "Right" The men answer in a hurry.
"And I like the middle," Cecy adds. "Now favorite food?"
"Fruits de mer."
"Steak and kidney pudding"
"Oh apple pudding, or soup. So gentlemen, one last question. Doris has asked where we prefer to live…" They look at each other and smile.
This time three voices answer me.
"It doesn't matter, as long as we're together."

Awww. They go out of one door as the other one opens and Budda runs in. As usual he's filthy. Raven follows him and grins. 
"We've saved you ice cream, I thought you might need it to cool down…"

Never a truer word…

Everyone agreed the Brigstock family was unconventional. Just how unconventional could be somewhat of a shock...
She may have turned her men down once, but will she have the resolve to do it again?
Cecy's willpower is never strong when she's around Caleb or Philippe, and now she needs them to keep her safe. They intend to stick close to her, so surely a little dalliance is acceptable? The problem is a little is not enough for any of them, but can they all agree just on what form the 'more' should take?

Here's a tease…

"Look, love, do you trust us?"
"Certainly," Cecy said, surprise in her voice. "Else I would not be here."
"You think not?" Philippe asked.
"I know not, or not without putting up a fight, and remember 'twas Randall who taught me to hold my own, and not in a ladylike way. I could kick your balls so far inside you, they'd never see the light of day again, let along provide your cock with the juices of enjoyment. That I chose not to must prove something?"
Caleb pinched her ear. "We overwhelmed you with our, er prowess?"
"Something like that." She ran her hands down her skirt. "So, what happens? Am I to stay here? Not in this glade I hope. I don't admire nature to the extent I wish to commune with it all day and night."
"Cecy listen." Philippe took her hands and drew her to him. His swift glance at Caleb made him move behind her wedging her between them.
"A Cecy sandwich?" she asked, as she snaked her foot between his legs. He held it tight. She may say she was acquiescent, but who knew how far her docility went?
"Naughty," Caleb chastised her and she sniggered. "Actually my lord as I still have no footwear on I thought to give your cock a love tap." She grinned at him over her shoulder.
"Thank you, I prefer you do not. I'll give you a love tap instead." He administered two sharp spanks to her arse, one on each globe. She jumped and went to rub the spots.
"No, no," Philippe took hold of both her hands and held them high above her head. "We give the taps and we give the rubs. You enjoy."
Caleb caught the inference. "How does it feel, love, to be caught between us, to feel my hand sting your flesh, and soothe the sting? Does the pain change to pleasure, and fill you with the need for more?"
"The truth, now, Cecilia." Philippe added as he bent his head and showered tiny nipping kisses along her shoulder. "Does it excite you and make your juices flow? Are you wet? If one of us dipped our hands inside your honey pot would we be covered in your nectar?"
Cecy wriggled and pressed her rear into his groin. His prick decided it was time to notice and jerked its appreciation. Of course she detected the tiny movement and pressed ever harder.
"Unless you want your dress flipped over your head, your arse spanked the color of your lips and both of us ministering to you now, I suggest you desist. As much as that scenario appeals we have no time. We must move."


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Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.
A lover of reading, she appreciates the history inside a book, and the chance to peek into the lives of those from years ago. Raven admits that she enjoys the research for her books almost as much as the writing; so much so, that sometimes she realizes she's strayed way past the information she needs to know, and not a paragraph has been added to her WIP.
Her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.

You can find out more about Raven here…        (my page)             (author page)