Could Someone Just Scoop Out My Sinuses, Thanks
Oy. You may remember that I wound up catching a cold while in Chicago a couple of weeks ago. Despite my best efforts it appears to have left a juicy little sinus infection in its wake.
Before I get besieged by remedies et al., I’ve gotten these often enough to know what to do. The mucus is yellow (it actually bears a noticeable resemblance to lemon curd), not green, which means it’s a viral infection rather than a bacterial one so antibiotics won’t do a blessed thing. I’m using antihistamines, Mucinex to thin the mucus, and aspirin to fight the sinus pain. I’m also using a neti pot to rinse out my sinuses, a steroid inhaler to help reduce swelling, and I’m sleeping with a humidifier next to the bed. Right now the only truly useful thing I can do is drink a boatload of water, rest, and wait it out.
Not like I have any other options, as this opportunistic infection is draining my energy like you would not believe. I went food shopping yesterday and felt like I was slogging through mud. Ramón sent me off to bed around 7:30 PM — I woke up 12 hours later and didn’t feel better at all. And I have all this lovely writing to do, if I could just kick my ass into gear instead of staring blearily at the screen and wishing mightily to take a nap.
But these books aren’t going to write themselves, so I may as well get cracking. If you hear pathetic coughing in the corner, be kind and send over a hot toddy, thanks.
Mid Week Tease: Cross Current #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Hello, chumrades, and welcome to Mid Week Tease! This week I’m featuring anohter snippet from Cross Current (Olympic Cove #4), where our hero Matt winds up being abruptly introduced to the paranormal world. No pressure.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Matt choked on his wine.
Griffin leaned over and whacked him on the back as he spluttered. “You all right, mate?”
“Yeah,” Matt managed, grabbing a napkin and wiping his chin. “Sorry. Uh….”
He pointed at the beach, where a guy who could have worked as a body double for Chris Evans was climbing out of the surf. Shaggy blond hair surrounded a face that should have been on a romance novel cover, while the water slid off muscled arms and a perfect V-shaped torso, drops trickling down to—
Matt swallowed as the man’s naked and well-hung groin cleared the water. Jesus God, how does that thing not act like an anchor?
If that wasn’t enough, a sleek brown head also emerged from the water, letting out a ringing bark. One of the biggest seals Matt had ever seen thumped out of the water with the aid of powerful flippers. Man and beast headed straight for Dunn’s cottage, where Naked Guy dropped to his knees at the stairs, bowing his head. “My lord,” he said, voice rough and exhausted, “I come to ask a boon.”
My lord? And then Matt noticed Dunn’s expression. The amusement from the meal had turned into grim authority, while Ammie’s delicate features firmed into a more feminine version of her husband’s glower. Griffin leaned back in his seat, rubbing his mouth.
Matt turned back to the newcomers just in time to see the seal start writhing on the sand. It let out a series of pained noises, deforming as if something inside the creature was trying to get out.
And then the sleek sable fur on the breast split, a human hand pushing through it. The animal abruptly turned into a seal-shaped balloon that slid off the shoulders of a dark-haired man who crawled out of its skin.
Also naked, a hysterical little voice in the back of Matt’s head said. Although not quite as well hung…
The seal man got to his feet with an effort, looking drained. “Lord Poseidon,” he said to Dunn with a weary bow, “my name is Malcolm Muir, and I formally ask for sanctu—”
Before he could finish the sentence his eyes rolled up. With a gentle smile he collapsed face forward into the sand.
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You Got Girlie Bits In My M/M Romance!
As you know, Bob, I’m currently working on Cross Current, the fourth book in the Olympic Cove series, so I have the first three books on my mind at the moment. They’re all still selling, and to date Deep Water has gotten some very lovely reviews. This is reassuring to me because, yes, external validation is a thing and I like to have some of it once in a while.
That being said, I have also noticed that a number of the reviews make a point of saying that Deep Water, unlike the first two books in the series, is a MMF menage. There’s no real complaint about that, more a tone of puzzlement along the lines of, “Well, we don’t know why she decided to add female characters, but the story’s still good so we’ll work with it.”
So lemme ‘splain why I broke the pattern. Basically, my subconscious does whatever the hell it likes, and it decided that the first two books would be MMM, the third would be MMF, the fourth MMMFF, the fifth MMF, and the sixth MF (although now I’m kinda leaning towards MMF). I was fully aware that this could be problematic with regards to sales, as MM readers tend not to read MF stories and visa versa, and indeed I noticed a distinct downtick in sales with Deep Water as compared to the first two books in the series.
But. The Olympic Cove series is not your usual erotic romance series, as I suspect y’all may have noticed by now. It’s a cautionary tale about climate change as seen through the lens of fantasy, giving the planet a voice in the form of Gaia and her divine offspring. Yes, there are great big dollops of sex, but the main theme of the series is the environment and how humans are negatively affecting it, and that’s more important to me than sticking to one particular romantic grouping, be it MMM, MMF, etc.
Ultimately I hope that I can serve the story well enough to keep people reading even if I’m not using their favorite menage arrangement. And for the die-hard MM fans, I promise you there will be more side stories about Col and Kasos, just as soon as I get some wiggle room in my writing schedule.
Nicola’s Sunday Shoutout: Lynn Burke
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Lynn Burke and her delicious new erotic romance Finding Freedom, now available online from Roane Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Lynn!
Tessa’s life beneath the strict rules of her parents’ cultish church leaves her longing for independence. Her boring, small-town checkout lane job barely covers the bills, let alone fulfill her wants and desires.
Until the weekly visits of god-like Trent and Brody have her dreaming of a Tessa sandwich with both sensual men as her bread.
Fantasies may be a pastime of the wicked, but when Trent asks her on a date—with both him and Brody—Tessa decides to take a chance, knowing the purity of her soul is at stake. Will these two men be her ticket to freedom – or her one way trip to eternal damnation?
Story Excerpt
Towel wrapped around me, I peeked out the bathroom door into Trent’s dimly lit bedroom. A T-shirt and shorts lay on his massive, king-sized bed.
I tugged the shorts up my damp legs, but couldn’t get them over my bum. More tears pricked as I cursed my too-much body. Trent’s shirt hung to the middle of my thighs. It would have to do.
Trent lounged beside the blazing fire pit. The sound of trickling water drew my attention to the right. Brody stood beneath the outdoor shower, his round, bite-able backside flooding my mouth with drool.
Tearing my gaze off him, I ambled over toward Trent. He patted the couch beside him, and taking care not to reveal my too-much, naked bottom half, I settled on the cushion and allowed myself another peek at Brody.
“Hot, isn’t he?”
Trent’s low, murmured words whipped my head around. “What?”
“Brody.” He continued to stare at his friend, a smirk on his lips, lust in his eyes. “Just look at that ass.”
Unable to help myself, I did as told while trying to wrap my mind around what Trent had said—and the unmistakable desire in his gaze.
“What do you think, Tessa?”
I swallowed and laced my fingers together in my lap. “I think he’s beautiful.”
Trent made a sound of appreciation in his throat as Brody turned, closed his eyes, and tipped his head back, running his hands through his hair.
My focus zoned in on his long, flaccid penis. Cock, my whore-mind whispered. I laced my fingers tighter and forced my attention on Trent.
He met my gaze and grinned. “Quite the temptation, isn’t he?”
“Enough to make me burn in hell,” I admitted with a whisper.
Where To Buy
Roane Publishing
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Barnes & Noble
Bookstrand
Smashwords
Google Play
All Romance eBooks
Giveaway
Lynn is giving away an ecopy of Finding Freedom and a $10 Roane Publishing gift card. Just use the Rafflecopter code below to enter to win!
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About Lynn Burke
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
Her current work, the Risso Familly Novellas, revolves around four siblings from Boston’s North End.
Fabulous Friday Reads: Waking the Lioness
TGIF! Let’s kick off the weekend with Amber Morgan’s purrfectly wonderful new novel Waking the Lioness, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Amber!
I’m a werewolf girl first and foremost, but my second-favourite shifter is definitely the werecat. Although the term “werecat” only really came about in the 1970s, there’s been myths and legends about humans turning into cats forever. In European folklore there are stories of witches turning into domestic cats. In Africa, leopard gods and goddesses would take human form and mate with mortals, and their offspring would be shapeshifters (hmm, now there’s a story idea…). In Asia, the ghosts of people killed by tigers could become evil beings called Chang, who made sure that tigers killed even more people!
And in America, where WAKING THE LIONESS is set, we have were-jaguars. In Mesoamerican cultures, priests and shamans would wear jaguar skins to become jaguars themselves. There are also stories of bipedal felines – kind of like Bigfoot, but, you know, cats. There doesn’t seem to be much about shapeshifting mountain lions, but that’s the beauty of being a writer – I can make it up! I’m hoping that WAKING THE LIONESS will be the first in a series of werecat stories, because there’s just so much to explore! In the mean time, I’m looking forward to you meeting Lara, Zane, and Tate, and getting to know my werecats very, very intimately.
Convinced she could never give her fiance what he truly wanted, cat-shifter Lara Carey walked away from her home and her engagement, and started fresh in New Orleans. One year on, she’s never stopped missing Zane Walker…but it’s too late to do anything about it, isn’t it?
Zane Walker hasn’t come to New Orleans to find Lara, but when chance throws them together, his passion for her is reignited. There’s just one problem. Zane’s new lover is missing somewhere in New Orleans, and even if Zane and Lara find him, can Lara accept him and Zane?
Story Excerpt
She smiled, hoping she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. “Is Tate the jealous type?” she asked, flexing her fingers. Zane let out a long sigh.
“Lara, this isn’t—”
She moved in front of him, sliding her hand down his torso until she cupped his balls. Another ragged sigh. Lara licked her lips and kissed his throat, nipping lightly. The smell of male arousal mingled with her own musk. She kept her eyes on Tate as she teased Zane, raking her nails over his balls and rubbing her thumb across that soft, sensitive stretch of flesh beneath, just the way he loved. If Tate was the jealous type, she could be making a major mistake here, one she’d never recover from.
But Tate didn’t look angry or jealous as the dull glaze faded from his eyes. He looked…curious.
Zane groaned as she encircled his hardening cock. He pulled her hard against him, crushing her breasts to him with just the right balance of pleasure-pain. She whimpered as he dug his fingers into her hips, silently urging her on.
She worked her hand slowly up and down his shaft, her other hand making lazy trails up and down his chest. It had been so long since she’d been with anyone. The slightest contact burned like wildfire, and this was Zane, the only man she’d ever loved. Breathless with desire, wound tight with need, it was impossible to pretend she did this only to force Tate into a shift. She was doing this all for her own selfish pleasure and she wasn’t going to stop. And if Zane’s reaction to her touch was anything to go by, he didn’t want her to.
On the bed, Tate raised his head and chirped at Zane. Zane raised his head, a little growl escaping his lips. “You know the rules. You want in, you shift,” he said in a voice thick and throaty with desire.
The words caught Lara off-guard. They implied so much with so little. So much history, past threesomes maybe. Her heart skipped. Did Zane think… Would she even…?
Her stomach filled with butterflies as she realized she would. Dammit, she was so starved for skin contact, so – yes, still so in love with Zane, that she would. She’d take both men. Excitement raced through her. She’d take them both and savor the thrill of it.
Tate shook his head and pushed himself up, his wounded back leg clearly hampering him. Lara’s hand faltered for a second, worried he’d hurt himself worse, but then Zane’s hand closed over hers. “Finish what you started,” he growled.
Where to Buy
Evernight
Amazon US
Amazon UK
AllRomance eBooks
About Amber Morgan
Amber is the secret identity of a writer who normally pens urban fantasy, but feels like stretching her wings. Amber loves darker romance, anti-heroes, good red wine, and expensive chocolate (sometimes all at once). She’s based in the UK and lives in an adorable cottage with her dream man and two stupid snakes.
Why, yes, I’m still alive
Sorry about the extended radio silence. I was in the Chicagos for the second half of January hanging out with Younger Nephew while his mom and dad went on a very well-deserved vacation, and then while I was there YN gave me a rather juicy cold that knocked me on my ass once I got home.
That being said, the enforced downtime in bed meant that I have binge-watched a goodly chunk of Downton Abbey, Series 1-3 (damn you, my good sister, for introducing me to this between-the-wars quicksand). And may I say that I would give a pretty for a lady’s maid right now? Someone who could brush my hair, fasten my shoes, lay out my clothing and run my bath for me, especially when I feel like I’ve been hit by a car, would be absolutely lovely. Granted, I’d also have to work on getting her martyr of a husband out of jail, but I feel that would be an acceptable compromise.
That being said, I have risen from my sickbed and am now clean, coiffed, and dressed so I feel it’s time to get back to work and continue to craft the cleverly saucy erotic romances that I am known for (do you know how HARD it is to stop talking like that? Crikey…). As February has begun I’ve started outlining the sequel to Empress of Storms (working title still to be determined, and suggestions are being accepted), with the idea of publishing it at the end of March. I’m also finishing (yes, still) Behind the Iron Cross (ironically DA may wind up informing a lot of the editing), and I had a whopper of a plot development while I was in Chicago that will require me to scrap the first chapters of Cross Current. That being said, this new plot point is kinda amazing and gives the main character some real issues to overcome while he figures out what he’s doing at Olympic Cove.
Back to Empress of Storms, I’ve crunched the numbers for its first quarter and I’m very pleased to announce that it has become my bestselling title for any given quarter. From November 7, 2015 to January 31, 2016 I sold 745 copies through assorted online retailers, and made $1525.38. After deducting promotion and production costs my net income for Empress was $1227.82. Not too shabby for the first book as Nicola M. Cameron in a subgenre I’ve never written in before, hey? Moreover, it confirms my determination to continue as a hybrid author because that is obviously where the money can be made, and while I love entertaining you all I do kinda need to help Ramón keep a roof over our heads and kibble in the cats’ bellies. The nice thing is that the upward selling trend is continuing, so hopefully I can ride that for the next two months while I get out the sequel.
Oh, and the moderately fevered bingewatch of Downtown Abbey may have spawned an idea for a dieselpunk M/M series about a great estate that secretly serves as His Majesty’s first line of defense against arcane, supernatural, and paranormal attacks on the Empire, and the wolf shifter who gets sucked into all this after a brief dalliance with a man who turns out to be the estate’s heir. I’ve been describing it as Downton Abbey meets Girl Genius with a heavy dollop of Harry Potter thrown in for flavoring. It’s going to be sexy and dangerous, but with huge lashings of humor as well.
So that’s me settled for the first half of 2016!
Mid Week Tease: Cross Current #MidWeekTease #MWTease
It’s Wednesday? Awesome! Because I have a little teaser for you from the beginning of Cross Current (Olympic Cove #4). No, it’s not very sexy but I haven’t gotten to that point. Yet. Muwahahahaha…
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
“If you’ll sign here, please.”
Matt Taber wrote his signature on the indicated line.
“And here.”
Another line, another signature.
“And one last time.”
The same slightly scrawled name, black ballpoint ink pressed into grooves. The lawyer’s office printed out their documents on the nice heavy paper made for laser printers, not the thin general purpose stuff.
Nothing but the best for the death of a marriage.
“That should do it,” his lawyer said. He exchanged a nod with the other lawyer, their steps done in this particular dance.
Across the table, Matt’s now-ex-wife Nancy sat with her hands neatly folded, a politely blank expression on her face. After ten years of living with her, he still couldn’t read it.
Then again, he didn’t have to try anymore. Giving her a brusque nod, he stood and followed his lawyer out of the conference room.
“That went pretty well, I’d say,” the lawyer said. “Although I still think we should have held out for community property.”
Matt shrugged. “I don’t want anything from her.”
That wasn’t quite true. But it was far too late in any case. And God knew the last thing he wanted from her was money.
He nodded through the rest of the lawyer’s litany, agreeing to stop by the office for the final payment. And then he was alone in the granite-clad hallway, surrounded by expensive air and time that was counted in billable hours.
“Matt.”
He turned. Nancy stood at the door of the conference room, elegant as always. Today she wore a cream tailored jacket and skirt over a champagne silk blouse that would go straight from a divorce lawyer to her VP office at a major bank without anyone batting an eye.
The regret washed over him again. I loved you, I really did.
I’m sorry.
She pursed her mouth as if hearing his thoughts. “I’m not going to give you some ridiculous platitude about how this is the best thing for both of us,” she said, kind and blunt at the same time. “I wasn’t happy and I wanted out, simple as that. But I also know you’re hurting right now, and I’m sorry about that. You’re a good person, Matt. You’ll be able to find someone who’s a better fit for you.”
Matt let a slow breath roll out. “I thought you weren’t going to give me some ridiculous platitude.”
One black eyebrow rose in an elegant curve, her equivalent of a laugh. “You have a point. I’ll be back from Hong Kong in a month. Will that be enough time for you?”
“Yeah, plenty.” The house on Chinook Lane had been hers before their marriage. He admired the building, but never felt at home there. It was like living in something out of an issue of Architectural Digest. “I can swing by and check the mail every couple of days if you like.”
“No, I already put a hold on it at the post office. But I appreciate the offer.”
“Okay.” He stared at the woman who, with a handful of signatures, had gone from his wife to a stranger. “Well. Have a good flight.”
“Thanks.” She leaned forward and brushed cool lips across his cheek, then turned and walked away.
Available on Amazon.
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Heterodyning, Artistry, and David Bowie
Firstly, my heart goes out to Mr. Bowie’s family, friends, and everyone whose lives he touched. He made all us weird kids feel like there was a place for us on Planet Earth, after all. And while I’m fully aware that he didn’t want to die, I must also say that the careful planning around Bowie’s last album Blackstar gives us a poignant goodbye and provides a superb close to an extraordinary life.
(Also, I swear to God I had no idea until today that he’d played an Eastern European soldier who becomes a high class prostitute in between-the-wars Berlin in the movie Just a Gigolo. I think I need to see that toot sweet.)
Secondly, the lovely thing about art is how it’s basically creative Brownian motion. A work of art or artist inspires another artist, who then inspires yet another artist, and so on and so on. For example, this is the exact train of thought I’ve had over the past hour or so:
Man, I’m going to miss David Bowie.
I want to listen to “Life on Mars.” Need to find that on YouTube.
Hmm, I also really like Jessica Lange’s version of “Life on Mars” from AHS: Freak Show. I’ll watch that, too.
Ooh, Jessica Lange singing “Gods and Monsters” on AHS: Freak Show. I need to watch that again, as well.
You know, “Gods and Monsters” would be amazing background music for a love scene with Dean and Castiel.
It’s got to be dangerous, seducing an angel.
“He seduced an angel — now all hell’s going to break loose.”
That would make a great tag line for a novel.
How would I do this? It can’t be too close to Supernatural, more original.
Huh. Why would an angel want to talk to a human anyway? It’s not like we’re all that interesting.
Unless…
OOOOOOOOOOOOH.
Embittered Iraqi vet Mitch Barsky has his life turned upside down when he’s drafted by the angel Jegudiel to help him find the angel’s lost charge, a two-year-old girl named Nayyirah who is destined to save mankind. The child has been hidden from both Heaven and Hell somewhere in the Middle East, and Mitch and Jed must risk their lives and souls to rescue her. But a dangerous situation becomes even more volatile when the vet and the angel, against all the rules, fall in love.
Because I need another series. And this will be a 3-book series, that’s very clear. Oh, my God. THANKS DAVID, YOU MAGNIFICENT BASTARD.
Marvelous Monday Reads: One Hour Girl @LeTeishaNewton @AnchoredBooksPR
Happy Monday, folks! Today I have LeTeisha Newton on to talk about her new book One Hour Girl, coming on February 29, 2016. Take it away, LeTeisha!
What drove you to create One Hour Girl?
Because it was time. I think that One Hour Girl, for me, is a piece I created to speak to so many women out there that are victims of domestic or child abuse and how they survived it. It doesn’t have to be a public badge anyone wears, but it can fiddle with everyday life, the way you look at yourself, and how you deal with others. Celeste was a woman who used negative coping mechanisms to get through her past and it took an equally messed up man to help her. But he wasn’t all about making himself her source of happiness. He wanted her to love herself and see herself the same way he did, and that helped her heal. Isn’t that how life is? How love should be?
What is the Lost Series?
The point of the Lost Series was to create a series of stand-alone books that could be read completely separate, with no overlap, and no cliffhangers. They are tied by a common theme of lost souls, real people, finding love they way they have to. One Hour Girl is a gritty contemporary romance, and the flagship book. Scarred, Book 2, is more a dark romance with BDSM elements. Phenomenal, Book 2.5 is a MMA Fighter romance about an underdog fighter who has lost everything struggling to get to the top again, and the woman who is willing to help him get there. Each of the books, and the ensuing ones to come, wil satisfy different readers, and that’s what I was going for.
Totally get that. So how did you pick your hero and heroine?
I’m one of those authors that know my characters faces long before I write their stories. They are real to me. I know them, and I live them. Royce was drool worthy and I needed to give him an equally beautiful heroine. Because of the world they live in,their looks mattered quite a bit. Celeste moonlights as a high-dollar escort. Royce is L.A.’s most eligible bachelor. That contrasts with darker, rougher Ethan and River of Scarred, Book 2. They are equally scarred physically and mentally. Their look is much different. My characters look like their worlds.
So you already have the other books in the works?!
Oh yeah! Don’t want to leave my readers in a lurch LOL! One Hour Girl is out in February 2016, Scarred in May of 2016, and Phenomenal will be in a NOLA Boxed set with 8 other AMAZING authors, so we will keep that a bit under wraps, in August 2016!
He thinks I’m his forever girl, I saw it in his eyes. I wished I could have slapped the look off his face and hit him with the same jarring finality I’d learned I didn’t mean shit.
I’m not a forever sort of girl.
I’m not even his for the night.
He’ll be lucky if I’m his for the next hour if he doesn’t pay me for it.
And then Royce Mattherson stormed my defenses. Took all the poison inside of me and pushed it out through my pores. He tasted the taint on my skin and still decided to love me. He terrifies me. Exhilarates me. Frustrates me.
And he always gets what he wants.
Always…
Story Excerpt
I watched Celeste’s eyes widen and she tried to shift from under me, coming out of the daze as she looked over at the hustling waiter. I gripped her hips, pinning her beneath me.
“You aren’t going anywhere,” I assured her. “You seemed to have ruined my dinner, and I’m famished.”
I licked my lips, feeling desire and pride swell within me as her gaze tracked my movement and a warm flush appeared under her skin. I pressed my hips between her legs, hissing at the heat of her pussy against my cloth covered cock.
“I think I’ve found something to eat…right…here,” I told her, letting go of her hip to push my hand between us and cup her sex.
She moaned, head tossed back. I waited long enough for the waiter to run behind the counter and away before I claimed her mouth again. This was my place, my money, my rules. No one would disturb us, and I wanted to see how wild she could get. I wanted to control her.
I rubbed my fingers against her in a circular motion as I devoured her mouth. She gripped at my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders. It couldn’t fall to the floor because I wouldn’t stop caressing her, but it was out of her way enough that she went for my shirt next. Buttons popped as she ripped my shirt open and ran her nails down my chest.
Ground zero.
My cock was hard and pulsing in my pants. I moved my hand from between us and ground against her. She cried out, rolling her hips against me. I liked that. I fucking loved how she gave into her passion. She didn’t fight it, she didn’t apologize for it. The way she responded to me made me feel like a god.
I sucked my way down the side of her neck, paying attention to any hitch of breath, and shift of her body. I noticed that her nails dug when I nipped over her pulse. She sucked in a breath when I traced her cleavage with my tongue. Her breath rushed out in a whoosh when I pulled the neck of her dress down far enough to suck her nipple into my mouth, bra and all.
I noted it all, and logged it to memory. She was mine. So what if it didn’t make sense? So what if I was fighting an uphill battle against a woman who didn’t believe in giving herself. We weren’t talking about love. We were talking about enjoying a spark with another person that we’d never feel again.
I could give her everything she needed, but the emotions. She just needed to learn that people like us? That’s all we needed. I let her nipple go long enough to pull her into my arms and force the dress up and over her head. I tossed the dress over my shoulder as I used my other hand to pop her bra. By the time she lay back on the table she only had her delicate black thong and heels on.
Beautiful.
Her breasts were slightly rosy with desire. It was such a pretty color against her bronze flesh. I captured her slightly darker nipple in my mouth, grinding my hips against her. Her fingers tunneled through my hair as she held me to her. Rolling her nipple with my tongue just to hear her cry out again, I traced the inside of her thighs.
“So pretty. How good will you taste?” I asked her. I kissed my way down over her stomach, stopping long enough to dip my tongue in her navel. Her body shook under my hands. Or maybe it was my hands. I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. The most important thing for me was to drink her down. To hear her scream my name.
I nuzzled her groin. It was bare, and the skin there was smooth. I nipped the sensitive flesh and then licked away the sting. Her skin was like spun honey, sticky and moist, and so fucking amazing. The crease on the inside of her thigh where it met her groin demanded attention and I followed the line down with my tongue.
I took a moment to sit back and grab my chair. I sat back down and looked at her pussy. My breath came out hard and raspy as I admired the tight lips and nub peeking out from its hood. Moisture leaked out of her, making her shine. All for me. I’d done that. Gripping the backs of her thighs, I pushed her legs up and out.
“Royce—” she started by I popped her ass to shut her up.
“You chose this, and it’s what I want. Has anyone, ever, just pleased you? Have you ever had someone who couldn’t think of their own pleasure because it was intrinsically combined with yours?”
She stared at me, so I popped her ass again.
“Answer me.”
“No,” she said finally. “Never.”
“You won’t be able to say that after tonight,” I promised her.
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About LeTeisha Newton
Writing professionally since 2008, LeTeisha has spanned from Fantasy to Interracial Romance on her road to getting the jumping characters out of her head. Most days she’s pretty color blind, unless it’s a great shade of red (then she can’t ignore it). Other times she’s plotting her next twenty books and then remembering that the computer can’t read her thoughts and doesn’t type at lightning speed. Either way, she just can’t seem to get enough of quill to paper…or eh…keyboard strokes, apparently.
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Money Making Methods for the Modern Erotic Romance Author
Or me, in other words. I love writing, love my books, ADORE my readers to bits, and I’m very glad that my income is going up every year. But it’s still not what I would call a living wage, and so I subsidize my writing income with my other love — making stuff. Usually jewelry, but that also includes knitted and crocheted items, character dolls, and pretty much anything else that comes together on my workbench.
That jewelry that I usually offer on release days and FB parties? The stuff from Belaurient Arts? Yeah, that’s mine, and rather proud of it I am, too. And to ward off any complaints of, “Why are you making jewelry or knitting stuff when you should be writing?” be aware that doing this other stuff is actually part of my writing practice because while I’m beading a necklace or wire wrapping a cabochon or knitting a shawl I’m also telling myself stories to keep myself entertained, which then gets used when I sit at the keyboard.
Anyway, where was I going with this? Oh, yeah — a few days ago a friend of mine sent me a large wodge of jewelry odds and ends from his late mother’s belongings. (I love it when people do that. So far I’ve have three friends say, “I’ve got a buttload of beads and stuff that I’ll never use — you want them?” Why, yes, yes I do, thank you very much.) This particular treasure trove delivered some adorably kitschy items, one graduated bead necklace that I think is jade (it passes most of the surface tests but I’ll need to do a density test for sure), some nice 70’s style vintage earrings, and a bunch of odds and ends that have been tucked away in my racks of jewelry bits for future use. I was really, REALLY happy when I found these silver filigree clip-on earrings. Their rhinestones were long gone, but luckily my favorite rock and gem store have a very nice selection of rhinestones and I was able to reset them with capri blue square stones that look fabulous against the silver.
The other set that I was very pleased with was a pair of horn Celtic knots. They’d been wired with dull goldish beads through the knotholes, but the wire was steel and didn’t go with the warm tones of the horn at all. So I cut those off, drilled four holes in each necklace for gold eye pins (let me take a moment to thank Dremel for their awesome products which make this jewelry designer’s life a lot easier), wired up six 6mm tiger’s eye beads with fancy head pins and gold spacer beads, added those to the eye pins, hung everything on gold French ear wires, et voila — awesome earrings for people who like Celtic or tribal jewelry, natural materials, tiger’s eye, or any combination thereof. These would be perfect for someone who goes to Burning Man, I suspect.
So after putting a bunch of new pretties up at the Etsy site, I was rewarded with two sales of a combined five items, the payment for which goes into my How Nicola Is Going To Pay For RT Fund. And I still have to put a sterling silver and 14K gold tree of life pendant and a really nifty blue and bronze beaded necklace up tomorrow, as well. And then figure out where I’m going to get the stuff I need for a density test. And work on Cross Current, of course.
Speaking of the HNIGTPFRT Fund, Empress of Storms racked up a total of $514 dollars as of this evening, and if the current pattern holds true I may make $1K on it by the end of its first quarter. Not too shabby for a self-pubbed book in a genre I’d never tackled before, eh? Now if I could only sell the movie rights to Peter Jackson…
Nicola Cameron Writes 