I need a cleaning service
A friend of mine is coming to town today and will be staying overnight at my place. As I have spent the last four months working on books, the housekeeping has fallen a bit by the wayside, which meant that the last five days have been spent cleaning all of the public rooms and the downstairs guest room. And when I say cleaning, I really mean rounding up dust rhinos, vacuuming up enough cat hair to make an additional two cats, wiping layers of dust off of every flat surface, giving the kitchen an in-depth cleaning and rendering the floor non-adhesive, and basically putting away a metric assload of shit that I’ve left to collect hither and yon. Oh, and I put my new toepiece on my cello finally — go me.
As I sit here, pondering every muscle on my body currently screaming at me and trying to convince my feet not to secede, I have decided something. I’ve spent five days sweating my ass off to make this place acceptable for guests when you know what? I could have been writing. I could have had Two to Tango pretty much 3/4 done, if not finished, and I damn well could have had the short story entry I’m doing done.
Which has led me to this decision. Come August, when we should have a major bill paid off and will have extra dosh in the house (please God), I am getting a biweekly cleaning service. Ramón will not be pleased about this at first, because he has never wanted a maid service in the past as he doesn’t like the idea of strangers being in our domicile (the fact that he often works from home and likes to work in a t-shirt and boxers has some bearing on this decision as well). But I have now spoken to female friends and relatives and learned that no man wants a maid service. As this is obviously a genetic quirk embedded in the Y chromosome, I feel that I can blithely ignore it and sign us up.
Of course, one part of me feels bad that I’m paying someone to clean my house for me. My Eastern European ancestors are probably rolling in their graves from shame that I don’t scrub the baseboards on a daily basis. But I’m taking something that Rachel Caine once told me to heart — if it gives you more time to write, it’s cost effective to hire someone to do whatever takes you away from writing. And as I’m actually starting to make money on my writing (not a lot, not yet anyway, but enough that I’ll have to pay quarterly taxes this year), I’d really rather pay Molly Maids to send over a couple of nice ladies every two weeks to give the public rooms a good once-over, and use the saved time to finish Iron Cross and get started on Breaker Zone.
So that’s my story and I’m — oops, there’s the doorbell. Off to be a hostess!
Nicola’s Sunday Shoutout: Raven McAllan
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Raven McAllan, whose sultry new Regency Cecilia’s Claim (Book Two in her Behind Closed Doors series with Lee Brazil) is now available from Evernight Publishing and other retailers of fine erotic romance. Here’s what Raven has to say about her new book:
I’ve bought chocolate to say thank you — and a big grin…Cecilia’s Claim is book two in a Regency Series I’m writing with Lee Brazil. Each book in the series, which is called Behind Closed Doors, is stand alone, although of course we’d love you to read them all…
Because…
Everyone agreed the Brigstock family was unconventional. Just how unconventional could be somewhat of a shock…
About Cecilia…
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?
Story Excerpt
“Are we safe here?” Cecy dropped her pelisse on the ground and stretched her arms above her head. The gesture emphasized her breasts, and they threatened to pop out over the top of her simple muslin gown. Caleb swallowed, and held his hands tight to his sides, to curb his inclination to touch and taste.
She stared at him, with her dark green eyes, the irises of which were of a color he’d seen on no one else. Her head was cocked to one side, and one eyebrow rose in query. He realized he hadn’t answered her question.
“As safe as we can be. It’s daylight, which could be a problem once we move away and onto the moor. However I am expected to be out and about during the day, so that is in our favor. Once your identity is known, that will not be in yours or Randall’s. I still fail to understand why it was thought this was a good place to send you, when his job puts you in a position as a bargaining tool. Peregrine slipped up there. It seems he put image and position over your safety and in truth I’m amazed at his lack of forethought. Seriously Cecy, you’ll have to leave the village. I’ll take you to the moor, and get a message to Randall to say he needn’t worry.” He watched her and waited for a reaction. When it came it was not the one he expected.
Cecy walked toward the stream and knelt beside it, dipping her hands into the cool water and splashed it over her face. Her gown caught tight under her and emphasized the curve of her arse. Caleb decided chivalry was much overrated. He moved swiftly across the glade, the grass masking his footsteps.
He leant over, his chest hard up against her back. Cecy tried to straighten, but he held her in the position she was and captured her hands in his. Her moan was not a protest, nor was the way her breathing had increased. The soft sheen on her skin was not fear or chill, and she pushed back as best she could, which increased the contact between them.
His prick, ever ready willing and waiting, thickened and jerked under the confines of his pantaloons.
Cecy gave a breathless laugh. “Ah my lord, your cock remembers me, such a pity his pleasure must be denied.”
Caleb kissed the nape of her neck, and relished the shiver she gave. “Must it love? Why must it? You want me, as you can tell I want you…” He kissed her neck again, sucked and soothed as he encircled her in his arms and rested his hands under her breasts, his fingers splayed across the fine material that covered them. “So?”
She twisted her head to look up at him. “So, no thank you, my lord. Oh my body wants you, there is no doubt of that, but my mind is wary. I know what you and Philippe demanded of me, and I don’t suppose your ideas have changed much in such a short while. I do not embrace pain my lord, in any shape or form. That includes in my mind as well as my body. And truly I am fearful. It seems I am not such a rebel as I had thought. I worry for you and Philippe as it is, in case you are decried in public and held to account. If we became three and that was made public I fear for our lives. So it is not just the pain, although that…well that is so alarming I feel sick just wondering in what form it would be. It is the pain of uncertainty. And knowing how easily our happiness could be destroyed.”
Cal stood up and drew her to her feet, spinning her so they were face to face. He brushed her hair from her cheek.
“Are you sure it would be pain, love? The line between pleasure and pain is blurred, and often cannot be separated. All we want is to show you everything we can do to give you the greatest pleasure.” He waited, scarce able to breathe. Her breath was ragged, and her eyes had taken on that soft sheen of passion. “Remember how you felt when I touched you here.” He put his hand between them and rubbed her quim. Even through her skirts he fancied he could feel her heat. She pushed into his hand. Emboldened, Caleb moved his other hand behind her and gathered the material
Where To Buy
About Raven McAllan
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.
Where to find Raven McAllan
Website
Blog
Facebook Personal Page
Facebook Author Page
Twitter
Works in Progress: Two to Tango
A little snippet from the SF caper novella TWO TO TANGO, starring an irreverent art thief and the grumpy but hot art conservator he accidentally kidnaps during a heist:
When everything started going blurry, Dmitri realized he’d stopped breathing and sucked in air. “That … how?”
Rory smirked. “I’m an art thief. You do the math.”
“No, you fool. How did it get smashed?”
“Oh, that.” Now Rory looked embarrassed. “Um, I hadn’t quite expected the previous owner’s last line of defense, and getting out of her compound meant jumping off a cliff into an ocean. The bowl didn’t quite survive the jump, unfortunately.” His eyes went vague with memory. “I have to admit, importing a black panther all the way from Earth was classy. Insane, but classy—“
Dmitri held up a hand. “Why are you showing me this? I mean, unless you genuinely want me to kill you for destroying a priceless artifact from an alien culture?” He shouted the last bit, fists clenching on the worktable surface.
The taller man shuffled a bit, toeing the deck. “Well, you’re an exoarchaeologist and a conservator, right? So I thought maybe you could put it back together again.”
Dmitri stared at Rory for a long moment, fighting down the urge to wrap his hands around the other man’s throat and squeeze. “Mr. McClellan, this bowl dates from the Third Sooloogo Dynasty,” he said, enunciating every syllable. “When the Saolao carved this, mankind was still poking sticks into termite hills and eating what they pulled out. You don’t just ‘put something like this back together.’”
Fabulous Friday Reads: The Billionaire’s Unwanted Virgin
We’re kicking off this weekend with the fabulous new erotic romance The Billionaire’s Unwanted Virgin from the talented and muy prolific Doris O’Connor. Doris was kind enough to sit down with me for a brief interview about the life of an erotic romance writer.
1. How did you get started writing erotic romance?
Ah, well, would you believe me if I said I never set out to write erotic romance? I found writing sex scenes rather embarrassing, lol. However, as always, my characters had other ideas. Try as I might they would not stop jumping each other’s bones. It was whilst writing the first draft for Too Cold To Love that things finally clicked in my head. One beta reader referred to my hero as a walking penis. It stung at the time, but I kinda thought to myself, “Okay, then, I’ll show you.”
I’m a bit like that, see. Tell me I can’t do something and I blinking well will. 😉
And just like that the erotic writer in me was born and my writing just got hotter and hotter…
I love writing sex scenes nowadays, but they are always part of a love story. It’s all about the emotional connection.
2. What inspired you to write the book we’re discussing today?
I read a newspaper article about a Brazilian Virgin auctioning off her virginity last year. It caused quite a stir here in the UK, and I thought to myself then there was a story in there somewhere. It wasn’t until we were having a brain storming session in our crit group and one of them said to me, “You know that virgin story… it’s right up your alley, you ought to write it.” So, I did.
3. Do you have any other works in progress?
Always, lol. I have a Romance On the Go story releasing May 31st , called Under Orders.
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?
I’m also part of an Anthology of Naughty short stories, called Her Type Of Guy. We are in edits right now and it’s scheduled for release in June.
For every desire, there’s a man to meet it. Someone’s annoyance is another’s kink. In this naughty collection of short stories, indulge your fantasies, and follow our heroines as they find just the right type of guy or guys…
From bouncing cocks to virgins, slow coaches, true Scotsmen, and messy play partners, sex toy experts and their mischievous friends, these guys are in need of their ladies. Why is one guy too grumpy to believe, another always too early? And can there ever be a future with a hired killer?
Only one way to find out. You might just meet your ideal guy.
I’ve also just completed a sex android story and I’ve got more ideas running around in my head than I know what to with, lol.
4. How do you come up with your characters?
They hunt me down until I tell their story. Yes, really they do, lol. Once one of them takes up residence in my mind, there is no peace to be had, until I write. That makes me sound like a loon, but I have no idea where they come from. They are just suddenly there, sitting on my shoulder, demanding I tell their story. It gets interesting when there are several of them vying for my attention, I tell you!
5. Do you have any advice for new writers?
Find yourself a good critique group or partner. Mine has been invaluable for the support and friendship, and that extra pair of eyes I already mentioned.
Read lots, and then read some more. It is amazing how much you pick up by simply reading, and write the stories that are on your heart. Find your voice, and use it.
Never, ever give up. I always say if I was never published again, I would still be writing, because for me it’s all about the stories.
Rejections are part of the process. I know everyone says that, but it really is true, and they are not personal, even though they might feel like it at the time. Publishing is a very subjective business.
Before you submit, do your research, and do follow the submission guidelines. It makes a difference.
Above all, have fun. Enjoy creating your stories J I love being a writer!
6. Lightning round: Chris Evans or Michael Fassbender (and yes, you can pick your own! :-)).
Michael Fassbender, of course! If I can pick my own … Alexander Skarsgard! *swoons*
Lay back and think of England, she could do this. It was only sex, after all. Auctioning off her virginity was the easy part—going through with it not so easy. When Alice realizes who has acquired her, keeping her emotions out of the deal seems an impossible task.
Self-made billionaire Lakota, Lance Kemnay has no time for women, let alone one, who would sell her virginity to the highest bidder. Ever practical, however, he sees in Alice a solution to his immediate need for a wife. The emotions she stirs in him are just lust, and lust can be dealt with. As they connect emotionally and physically, his resolve to keep his heart aloof is tested beyond limits.
Can he trust his tender feelings, or has he been taken for a fool by the one woman he thought he could trust?
Story Excerpt
He’d bound her to him with the ridiculous terms of their arrangement, and he had no idea how she really felt about him. That her body desired him, of that there was no doubt. Could there ever be more between them? Was the trust she exhibited in her submission to him enough to build a relationship on?
Would she want to stay with him once the arranged time was over? His little Alice was a romantic. Would she settle for a life with what little he had to offer, knowing full well that he was incapable of ever saying the words every woman wanted to hear?
“Lakota?” Her uncertain whisper shook him out his maudlin thoughts. This was here, and this was now. He would live in the moment and worry about all that later. Right now he had his woman where he wanted her.
“I’m here, my sweet. Relax.”
She drew in a breath and another, in a visible effort to calm her nerves, and he bent down and kissed her again.
“Remember those candles you admired on that stall in Colombo, my sweet?”
She stilled completely and her breaths grew choppier, and he smiled.
“I see that you do… Now, feel their kiss, and fly for me.”
He’d gone hard as nails in the middle of the crowded market at her innocent reaction to his whispered comment that these were far more than scented candles. He’d bought them on impulse, waiting for the right moment to introduce them. He knew her well enough by now to know how far he could push her, and he wanted to give her the pleasure this play brought.
She flinched at the first drop of wax hit her just below the collarbone, and he swiped the drop away, watching her closely for her reaction. Again and again he repeated the process, until she arched into the touch of the wax on her skin.
He drew patterns around her breasts, leaving the wax to settle, and letting the flame burn a little hotter each time. Her breathing changed to the slow, deep state of relaxed awareness he wanted her to be in as he scribed what was in his heart on her quivering tummy.
By the time he was done his dick was just about ready to explode, and Alice was so wet, the covers were stained under her ass. He smiled to himself at the face of housekeeping in the morning and poured one last heavy drop of wax over her hugely distended clit at the same time as he thrust his cock into the tight clasp of her body, with a growled, “Come for me, baby.”
****
Alice came so hard and so fast she could barely catch her breath. The sensation of the hot wax dripping over her most sensitive flesh coupled with the feel of him sliding deep into her core, his weight pinning her in place proved too much.
She was dimly aware of Lakota reaching his own pinnacle in record time, and then she was free. Released from her bonds and held securely in his arms, she blinked to get her eyes to focus.
Her body was covered in multi-colored patters of wax, and he’d traced a word into her lower abdomen—Mine.
Alice bit back her tears, and Lakota’s hands settled over her fingers tracing the word. She looked at him, and she held her breath at the emotion she glimpsed in his eyes, before he masked it.
“I will run you a bath, and you can soak it off. I’m not going near that beautiful skin of yours with a knife.”
“Do we have to take it off?”
He grew very still at her husky question, and his voice was hoarse when he finally answered.
“I don’t want you getting sore. This is your first time. We don’t know how your skin will react.”
Alice smiled at the protectiveness and concern behind those words.
“I seem to be having a lot of firsts around you, Mr. Kemnay.”
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing
Bookstrand
All Romance Ebooks
Amazon
About Doris O’Connor
Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris… at least that’s what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.
There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.
She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
Where to Find Doris O’Connor
Website
Blog
Twitter
Facebook
Pinterest
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
All Romance E-Books
BookStrand
Barnes & Noble
Nicola’s Sunday Shoutout: Rebecca Brochu
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Rebecca Brochu, whose new Romance on the Go book Undercover Lover is now available from Evernight Publishing and other retailers of fine erotic romance. This sizzling tale of an undercover cop posing as a hooker and the Good Samaritan club owner who falls for him is well worth the price!
When vice cop Gentry Trecall is informed that he’s going to be going undercover as a hooker, thanks to the city’s latest bid to crack down on prostitution, he’s skeptical but resigned. What he doesn’t expect is to encounter someone like Dublin MacAulay, the owner of the popular night club The Pale that just so happens to be right across the street from the corner Gentry has been assigned.
With the gruff but sincere way he tries to get Gentry off of the street Dublin’s unlike anyone Gentry’s ever met before. An unspoken attraction lingers between the two and the truth about Gentry’s profession is the only thing that keeps it at bay. But when the truth finally does come out will Dublin be able to forgive Gentry for the lie he’s had to tell? Or will his undercover work lose Gentry the lover of his dreams?
Story Excerpt
“I didn’t think this far ahead,” Gentry admitted quietly. His lips were slick and dark from being kissed, and Dublin pulled himself back from Gentry’s neck only to surge forward again to recapture them. Their tongues slid against each other, hot and wet and deliciously dirty, before Dublin pulled back again with a low groan.
“What do you want, Gentry? You have to tell me. You have to say it,” Dublin rasped, voice husky and eyes heavy lidded.
Gentry’ mouth fell open, and his eyes dropped to Dublin’s lips as he swallowed hard against the wave of vicious desire that roared through him. “I want everything. I want you and me naked in your bed, or on this bar, or where ever I can have you right now. I want you to fuck me hard and fast or deep and slow. I want you to give us both what we’ve been wanting since we met, and then I want you to do it over again. Please,” Gentry added. His cheeks burned red, and he licked his lips nervously as he met Dublin’s gaze head on.
Dublin didn’t say a word, but he wasted no time in ushering Gentry to his feet. He led Gentry towards the back of the club and up a flight of steps into what Gentry could immediately tell was his private office. Dublin tumbled them both down onto the couch, his hot, firm weight pressing Gentry down into the thick cushions, and then Dublin kissed him again.
Where To Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
Bookstrand
All Romance Books
Where to find Rebecca Brochu
So, Nic, why DO you write M/M romance?
I’m in a bit of a weird situation when it comes to writing same-gender erotic romance. While I count myself as primarily straight, my best friend of some thirty plus years is gay, I do a podcast with him and another friend that is considered part of a gay podcasting community, and a number of good friends are also GLBT. I understand that human sexuality is a spectrum and hetero/homo/bi/a are expected points spread along it. In other words, it’s all normal and good (and frankly I’m flattered when lesbians hit on me, especially the cute ones).
But still, primarily straight. And primarily straight women who write M/M erotic romance can run into problems from people accusing them of taking a M/F relationship dynamic and giving the “female” character a penis in order to cash in on the market for M/M romance. Worse, we get accused of fetishizing M/M sex and turning it into a masturbation tool for hetero women (much the same as “lesbian” porn, and I use that term loosely, is used by hetero men to get off). Unfortunately, both of these things do occur, the latter particularly in yaoi manga and anime. If it helps at all, M/M fetishization makes me just as uncomfortable as it does its detractors (gay and bi men are people, not sex toys. Same goes for lesbians and bi women), and badly written M/M erotic romance where the smaller/weaker/beta partner is obviously a woman in disguise drives me nuts. If you’re going to write sex scenes with two guys, they should be two guys, with all the characteristics of their gender. Also, why is the smaller partner always the beta/weaker/femme in disguise? Many of the guys I know on the shorter end of the scale are often quite dominant. But I digress.
The reason why I like writing M/M erotic romance is very simple — it’s more of what I like to look at. Oh, dear sweet mother of God, but I love men’s bodies — the way they’re shaped, the jut of a stubbly jaw, the curve of a bubble butt, the broadness of muscular shoulders. And yeah, I love penises — there, I’ve said it. I fell in love with them the moment I saw my first in-person erection and thought, “God, that’s a beautiful thing.” I know some women think that they look a bit odd, but I’m a proud aficionado of the phallus.
And when I write erotic romance, it’s got to be something that turns me on. Because of what I like, that’s usually the thought of two attractive men almost blind with need for each other, falling into bed or the nearest flat surface/wall/whatever as they get hard and writhe and moan and caress and lick and suck and happily fuck each other into ecstasy…er, excuse me for a moment. Need to cool off.
There, that’s better. Anyway, I like watching two attractive men who are genuinely into each other have sex. And “into each other” is important — I’ve seen my share of gay-for-pay porn with two guys who are obviously thinking of the paycheck instead of who they’re with, and frankly I’d rather watch paint dry. That being said, I am very aware of the tendency to fetishize this sort of sex, which is why I do my absolute best to stay as far away from that slant as possible. I want my characters to be as real as I can make them, not just literary blow-up dolls. Yes, they have smoking hot sex — I am writing erotic romance, after all. But they also have problems and bad habits, and have to struggle to get what they want, and are nowhere near perfect. I don’t know about you, but for me reading about perfect Ken dolls is boring as shit. I want my readers to get hooked into the story and cheering for my guys, so characterization is what I spend the bulk of my time working on when I write a story. As much as I enjoy writing the sex scenes, all that pyroclastic fucking is really just the cherry on the sundae.
By the way, all of this doesn’t mean I dislike MF erotic romance. I enjoy it very much, and plan on writing it in the near future (hell, the last book in the Olympic Cove series will be an MF book). But in the meantime, I’ll keep on writing what appeals to me both as a writer and a woman, and that usually means two hot guys happily humping away. Bless their hearts.
Go home, May, you’re drunk
I live in the clavicle of Texas, which means that as soon as May rolls around I prepare myself for the oncoming hell that is summer in Texas. My lawn guy (yes, I have a lawn guy — I’m busy and Ramón doesn’t do yardwork) was just mentioning to me yesterday that our city will be going to Stage 3 water restriction as of June 1st, as we stood outside in short sleeves and chatted in the 82°F sunny weather.
So will someone tell me why the temperature outside currently stands at 46°F, the trees are whipping back and forth like Willow Smith’s old hairstyle, and I’ve heard reports of snow? Apparently it’s actually snowing in Kansas City right now, which must come as quite the surprise to all the RT attendees (one woman tweeted that she’d packed a nice summer sundress, and had to go out to buy warmer clothes). Granted, I don’t mind cooler weather, especially if it keeps the triple digit days down to July/August, but this is ridiculous. Not to mention it’s seriously fucking with my budget, since by now the A/C should be on permanently and I’m keeping a nervous eye on the electric bill. Instead, I’m wearing thick socks and a shawl, the heat is on and I have to mentally adjust how much gets paid to the gas company and how much gets paid to the electric company. I’m old — I don’t like surprises. So sue me.
The good thing about the crappy weather is that I feel no need whatsoever to go outside, and indeed am stuck back into Behind the Iron Cross with a vengeance. The goal is to have it done and dusted by May 15, then let it sit for the rest of the month while I crack open Breaker Zone. The only problem with BZ is that I’m still kinda sorta working out the middle of the book — I know how it starts and ends, but hooking those two terminii up is my current mental cud chewing task while doing housework or crafting.
And then there’s Two to Tango, which is also calling for my attention, not to mention the alternate history mystery and the SF novels in my to do queue. There are times I really wish I didn’t have to sleep. Or had minions. Yeah, I could really do with some minions.
In other news, Storm Season continues to rise like a slow tide, which is heartening. I don’t have any “official” reviews yet, but it’s going over a treat at Goodreads, I have a nice 4-star review at Amazon, it’s slowly climbing the Paranormal/Horror bestseller chart at All Romance Ebooks, and it’s currently the highest-rated Evernight book in Bookstrand’s 30 Day Bestseller list for paranormal romance. Plus it’s selling steadily at Amazon, and I’m hoping that I’m close to 25 sales through Evernight’s website or have already cracked that. I figure as I build my backlist the sales will slowly increase and I’ll start developing a name for myself. Granted, that name will probably be, “Oh, that chick who does those weird SF/fantasy/suspense/erotic romance mashups,” but I’ll take what I can get.
Wicked Wednesday Reads: Waking Beauty
It’s time once again to help you over your Hump Day and spice up your week with this cheeky Naughty Fairy Tale from Evernight Publishing. This week, Nikki Prince’s Waking Beauty tells the tale of Aurora Devine, a submissive desperately in search of sexual relief. What happens when she learns that her desire can only be awakened in the arms of her former master?
Aurora Devine’s libido has been asleep for over eight years. She’s had the curse of not being able to have the big O since running away from her master Felipe Santiago Castro. The last time she came at the hand of a man it was with Felipe. Fearing what would happen if she let go with him completely she’d run.
Convinced the only way she will find peace of mind and pleasure is to go to Once Upon a Dream Fantasies she signs up for a time of pleasure asking for everything she’d lost eight years before to be fulfilled in a fantasy.
Felipe would show her that he was her only fantasy. He’d do anything to have her back in his life as his submissive. He’ll play along and give her the fantasy she wants but in the end she’d realize that her submissiveness called to his dominance and they were a matched pair.
Story Excerpt
The quiet continued on for a few moments longer before finally she couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Are you there?”
“Yes, Beauty, I’m here.” The voice was deep and the accent Spanish. They’d given her what she wanted. It wasn’t Felipe, nonetheless he’d do. She could pretend it was him. Only Felipe could make her come. The fantasy, if kept alive in her mind and in her heart, would make everything okay. She had to believe that. She couldn’t continue the way she was going. Hopefully just dreaming of Felipe as she was being touched would be enough.
She let herself live in the fantasy. This wasn’t a random stranger: it was her Felipe and he’d come back for her.
“I see you followed all of my instructions to the letter with exception of one.” His voice was stern and she squirmed.
“I…I…”
She heard the tsk-tsk that he gave. “Don’t bother to explain. I told you there would be consequences, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but?” How on earth did he know she’d touched herself?
“No buts, Beauty. When I give my word I mean every bit of it. So you will be punished. There is no other way around it. I give what I promise.”
His words exhilarated her and at the same time scared her. This was what she wanted and he was going to give her exactly that. He reminded her of Felipe in so many ways. “Now … do you understand, beauty?”
“Yes, I understand…” She didn’t know what to call him. From what she could hear he was moving about the room and he hadn’t tried to touch her yet. It was making her antsy.
“You should know what to call me. What did you put down on your paperwork?”
“I put Amo and señor.” Those two words were what she’d placed on the form. Amo and señor were what she used to call Felipe. Amo meant master and of course señor meant sir. She did say she wanted this to be as real as possible. This place didn’t half step at all. They followed everything that the client wanted.
“Then that is what you call me when you address me, Aurora. Is that understood?”
“Yes, señor, I understand.”
“Perfecto, my beauty.”
Damn, she really could believe it was Felipe. The accent was to die for. She let out a startled gasp as she was picked up by strong hands and held against an even stronger feeling body. In the next moment she was laid across his lap on her stomach. His fingers swept over her lower back where she had her tramp stamp.
“What a beautiful tattoo, Aurora.”
“I got it on a whim, señor.” It was vines on either side with thorns and a rose that dipped into the middle near her ass.
“Briar Rose,” he whispered softly. His words were so light that she almost thought he was talking to himself. His fingers traced lightly over the tattoo and then there was a stinging slap to her ass.
“What are you doing?” She couldn’t help the startled gasp that escaped her as the sting from his palm resonated through her whole body. Her words were given in her shock.
“I think you know what’s happening.” His palm rested on her bare ass and she squirmed.
“Stay still.” The command was given and she immediately obeyed. His large hands stroked slowly over her ass.
“What instruction did you disobey, Aurora?” All the while he rubbed his hand over her bare bottom as he spoke. It was soothing as much as it was delicious.
“To not touch myself.”
“That’s right, my beauty.” She squealed from the first smack on her ass by his palm.
“While you’re here, this is my ass, my pussy and my breasts.” With each word he slapped his hand against her backside, making her moan. Her butt was stinging from the spanking. Granted, it was in a pleasurable way. This paddling didn’t repulse her. In fact, she wanted more.
“Do you understand beauty?”
He gave her another rapid succession of slaps against her bottom. She found herself rocking her body into his lap.
“Yes, yes, señor. I understand fully.” Her ass was burning as she was being spanked as if she were a petulant child, and she loved it. Each slap set off an electric current of sensations that went straight to her clit.
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon.com
All Romance Ebooks
Bookstrand
About Nikki Prince
Nikki Prince is a mother of two, who’s always had a dream to be a published author in the romance genre. Her passion lies in raising her children as readers, gaming, cooking, reading and her writing. Her mother can now breathe easy about the child who used to get in trouble because she was hiding books everywhere and reading when it wasn’t appropriate.
Nikki’s a multi-published author with several epublishing houses. She loves to write Interracial romances in all genres, but wants to let everyone know to not box her in, because there is always room for growth.
Nikki’s also a member of Romance Writers of America National chapter (http://www.rwa.org) and OCC/RWA local chapter (http://www.occrwa.org) and is a member of the board as Co-Programs Director. She is also a member of the online chapter Passionate Ink RWA.
Where to Find Nikki Prince
Marvelous Monday Reads: The Wager
Welcome to Marvelous Monday Reads, and today I’ll be featuring the deliciously hot Regency romance The Wager by the prolific Raven McAllen. This is what Ms. McAllen has to say about her book:
The Wager was one of those stores that wrote itself. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean it was easy, oh no it was very, very, hard. This pair were determined to fight each other and me, and boy did they! I struggled big time with some of their ideas, but they were having none of it. It was their story, and no darned author was going to mess with it.
So I did as I gad to and listened to them, and do you know? I’m so glad I did. This may not be the most overtly hot story I’ve ever told, but oh boy, just read between the lines. Hot is just a word, their actions aren’t.
I so love writing Regencies, everything about them is a challenge, but the satisfaction when your characters tell you you’ve got it correct is second to none.
Catherine is in despair. Her brother has lost a wager and the prize is her. The winner is the one person she dare not be in thrall to. How will she cope?
Brook suggests they wager on the outcome of the previous bet, but he intends to win.
What happens is more than either of them anticipates.
Story Excerpt
“Will you ride…?” He paused and looked her up and down. Her muscles clenched, and her mouth went dry. The looked seared her to the center of her soul, and her pulsed raced at his innuendo. “With me?” he continued. She choked on nothing and he grinned.
“My dear, you owe me,” he said.
Catherine glared and he smirked. Her hands once more itched to touch his skin, and not in an arousing manner. Unless he was one who enjoyed pain. She gritted her teeth and dipped her head. “Gladly, if it means this farce will be soon over.”
Brook lifted her so she could swing her leg over the saddle. His eyes lingered on her ankle, and his hand held on a fraction too long as he helped her settle her foot in the stirrup. His touch seared her, when she looked down she was amazed his fingers were not imprinted on her skin.
“Farce? Not of our making my dear, but if you feel that way you should have reneged. As you didn’t, well, now ’tis the time for me to call the tune. Follow me, or do I need tie the horses?
“No, I will follow,” she said. “For what is the point of deprecating? It happened, I bowed, and agreed to your demand.” Catherine settled deep into the saddle, and patted the mare, who whickered softly. As she allowed her mount to tuck close behind his horse, she could not but admire the spirited steed he swung up onto it. Neither could she stop the frisson of excitement that coursed through her, making every nerve end tingle. She had not felt so aware since she last crossed words with him.
Her horse, Misty, Brook had told her, plodded behind his, as the path wound its way between the tress. They were densely planted and not easy to see between. Several times he seemed to change direction for no reason, and Catherine wondered what was going on. Were they doubling back on themselves, or was he deliberately trying to disorient her? On occasion a tiny glade would appear, and once a waterfall that fell down a sheer rock face for five or six feet, its base covered with tiny spring flowers. She would have loved to stop and pick some, to walk around the area, and enjoy the serenity she sensed there. Brook ignored them and continued on his less than straightforward route. After a while, although she was entranced by those tiny glimpses of something other than trees, Catherine was bored by the ride and beginning to get other ideas about the man ahead of her. His seat on his horse was straight, his back elegant, and his buttocks taut. Why had she been so altruistic in the past? If that was what she had been. Now she thought perhaps the word for her action was ‘foolish’.
The track twisted around a shallow pond, the water in it dark and full of weeds. Catherine shivered and her horse sidestepped as her movement projected to the animal. She soothed her with a few soft words and averted her eyes from the disgusting water. For one brief second her imagination had gone haywire. All she could think was what a good place it was to hide a body.
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing
All Romance Ebooks
Amazon.co.uk
Amazon.com
Bookstrand
Where to find Raven McAllen
And we have our winners!
Thanks to everyone who entered the Storm Season Release Day contest! Thanks to my random number generator, I’ve selected the three winners:
- Sheri V: Evernight Gift Certificate
- Jackie L: Amazon Gift Certificate
- Anna N: Nereid’s Band bracelet
The GCs have been sent, and the bracelet will go in the mail tomorrow. And if you were hoping to get the bracelet, fear not — I have it on good authority that Belaurient Arts will be making it available for sale Very Soon Now.
Congratulations to the winners, and thanks again to everyone who entered!
Nicola Cameron Writes 