Category Archives: book release

Guest Blogger Nicci Haydon Takes Us Into The Queen’s Chambers!!!

As an author that I readily fangirl over, I am so thrilled to share from Nicci Haydon’s new book, The Queen’s Chambers, Egyptology Book 1. Nicci has a running series on her blog about erotica she has masturbated over…let us just say that Nicci writes some pretty provocative stuff, but it would be vain for her to include herself in her own series! I am pretty sure you will be reading this with one hand! And she is quite the connoisseur, so after you read this post, go visit her blog for more scintillating erotica of hers and her recommendations!

Blurb

Before I even met her, I was in love with Professor Roxhana Rayes. I was fascinated by her story and wanted to follow in her footsteps: a woman who defied all convention to become the university’s first female Egyptologist, who made discoveries that turned her male counterparts green with envy. I saw pictures of her and fantasized about the two of us. Together.

In every way.

But it wasn’t until a visit to Egypt’s Valley of the Kings, when I’d already been her student for years, that we finally turned the corner from friends to lovers. And God, it felt like the culmination of my life. If I thought her passion for old tombs burned bright, it was nothing compared to her passion for other women.

Then the strangest thing happened. In the burial chamber of Queen Ahset I must have touched something I shouldn’t. Because now I’m in ancient Egypt, a slave in the palace of Queen Ahset herself.

And while the pharaoh might look familiar, her sexual appetites are far more voracious than I’ve ever known…

The Queen’s Chambers is a time bending tale of lesbian desire, soft BDSM and sexual experimentation set in both the Victorian age and ancient Egypt. There are graphic descriptions of consensual sexual acts throughout the book.

Becoming Queen

By Nicci Haydon

The coronation had been embarrassing and far too lengthy. At twenty-one years old, all Ahset wanted was to dine on sweet fruits, enjoy music and dancing and perhaps travel the kingdom in comfort and safety. She certainly never wanted to be Pharaoh, and wouldn’t have needed to be if her brother had been more interested in sex and less interested in war. Produce an heir before dying of foolhardiness, that was all he had to do, and Ahset could have remained a forgotten sibling and doting aunt, comfortable but without duties of her own.

Of course, her chief guard, Mahu, had promised to take on most of the tasks associated with running the nation, and for that she was grateful, but she was under no illusions about his ambition. They had enjoyed each other more than once, but she had resisted the temptation to let his cock inside her. As a woman, there was a danger in producing an heir of her own, and she had no intention of doing so without careful consideration.

Turning the corner leading to her own chambers brought her out of the heat of the sun and to a cooler corridor, and the sight of her only friend in the world, waiting outside her door. Ahset felt herself relax at once. She had grown up with Maia. Their fathers and brothers had hunted and fought alongside each other. As girls they had hidden together in the palace kitchen, thinking the cook didn’t spot them stealing pastries. They had chased each other through corridors and received punishment together for misbehaving. And more recently, as young women, they had resisted attempts to tame them and prepare them for marriage and childbirth.

As usual, seeing Maia brought other feelings as well. As she turned from child to woman, and her own desires had started to take form, Ahset had found herself more and more drawn to the soft features of her best friend. Ebony skin, dark hair and darker eyes that seemed to reach inside Ahset’s body and open her up to possibilities almost too shocking to entertain. Often, when she was alone, she found herself fantasising about that slim waist, those large breasts, finding herself slick to the touch as she imagined tasting Maia’s flesh, taking a dark, hardened nipple between her lips, pressing her fingers into Maia’s sex.

She shivered at the thought, and forced a smile to her lips.

“Maia, thank the gods. I need to retreat from the world.”

To her surprise, instead of running forward and throwing her arms around her as she would usually, Maia took a step back, her eyes lowering in submission.

“Maia, what’s wro-”

“You sent for me, my queen.”

Maia dipped one knee, crouching low, then moved into a kneeling position, her palms flat on the stone floor. She leaned forward, bringing her chest to her knees with her arms outstretched, head bowed.

Confusion warred with arousal inside Ahset’s mind. In that moment, her desire for her friend multiplied a hundred fold as she became submissive, pliant, willing to serve. If anything, Maia had always been braver, more headstrong. When Ahset fantasised about being with her, it was always Maia who took the lead. It was always Maia that made demands and was obeyed. But now…

Maia looked willing. She looked pliant.

“I did,” Ahset heard herself saying. “Come inside my chamber with me.”

There was a moment when she thought Maia might refuse. Ahset wondered if her voice had betrayed her intentions; she felt her heart clutch at the thought of losing her best friend over desires she never would have acted upon under normal circumstances.

Then Maia’s head rose and there was a glint in her eyes, and Ahset felt her body shudder, liquid leaking between her thighs.

“Yes, my queen,” Maia whispered, and her tongue glanced over her lips.

Excerpt

“Have you had enough, I wonder? Should I show you mercy?” I felt a finger over the tender flesh of my ass, the nail lightly scoring the hot flesh where she’d whipped me. Her finger dipped into the crevice between my buttocks and I clenched my teeth, drawing sharp breaths as I fought to keep myself from making a sound. She trailed her fingertip down through the crack of my ass, swirling around my tightest hole and then continuing to my soaked cunt. “You seem to be enjoying your punishment, slave. Maybe I should devise something less pleasurable for our next encounter. What do you think?”

I didn’t move. I didn’t answer. I wasn’t going to be fooled, not again.

The third strike took me by surprise and I let out a low moan that shuddered my core. “Thank you, Roxhana.”

Closing my eyes, I expected more, but Queen Ahset laughed.

“Oh, you are enjoying yourself. Look at this river. Sebek-khu, have you seen more liquid outside the Nile? Could we not quench the thirst of a nation with the river flowing down this slave’s thighs?” She paused. “Well?”

My nipples drew tight at the thought of him being forced to look at me. Did he enjoy the sight? Would he think about it later and grow hard at the memory? My mind was so confused by the thoughts. I’d been obsessed with Roxhana for so long that the idea of a man masturbating over thoughts of me was outside anything I’d imagined. I knew I didn’t want to have sex with a man, but to tease?

“I …” Sebek-khu’s voice shook with embarrassment and awkwardness. He had no more idea what was going on than I did, and forgetting my own confusion I felt truly sorry for him.

“Stop toying with him,” I muttered, then added, “Professor.”

For a moment there was nothing, just the scent of flowers, the scent of my own arousal, the click and crackle of flames in the wall sconces.

Then Ahset tutted. “Very well. It looks like you’ve made a friend, Sebek-khu. I believe that’s a first for you.” She giggled and I let it go in the hope that she would grow weary of pursuing the guards and return her attention to me.

I was rewarded with what I hoped would be the final stroke of the whip. It landed lower than the others, cutting into the tops of my thighs and biting my exposed pussy. I whimpered, my clitoris ringing with sensation that lay somewhere between agonising pain and absolute pleasure. I felt a gush of liquid leak from my cunt and wanted desperately to stroke myself, to bring myself an orgasm, but knew that doing so would only result in more strikes with the whip. While I was able to hold out against four, the thought of five made my mind cower. If I thought there might be more, I might even use my safe word.

“Thank you, Roxhana,” I said, and took a deep, settling breath.

“Have you learnt your lesson?”

I waited, then heard her laugh.

“You may answer.”

“Yes, Roxhana, I’m very grateful that you’re my teacher.”

“Oh, how delightful.” She purred the words. “I think this is going to be the start of something very special, but I’m satisfied that you’ve taken your punishment for today. I imagine you’re bursting to masturbate, aren’t you, slave? Or perhaps you’d like me to lick your slit until you fill my mouth with your climax? You may speak, tell me your thoughts.”

Okay, you might need two hands to click on the link below to get the entire book for your very own. Or maybe you can still make the transaction with one hand!

Amazon

***99c/99p at launch, or free to read on Kindle Unlimited

Guest Blogger Asrai Devin’s More Than Friends Will Leave You Breathless!!!

Simply put, Asrai Devin takes my breath away! Her erotica is like “Velvet.” With her new book More Than Friends coming out, I asked her for a return guest appearance to leave you breathless as well!

I love her writing and her taste so much, that I have added her as one of the elite curators of SexySmut where you can now read erotica that she has selected. But first, please read the following by her and swoon with me!

Chloe looked in the mirror. Cam model, cam girl. She was selling her body and having tons of orgasms and making enough money to pay her increased rent and put some savings away. Sure she lost some free time, but the benefits were immense. Like her newest and most mysterious client, CallMeSir.

She had emailed him in between shows and doing her weekend chores. He didn’t have a show until Tuesday, that was his night, but she enjoyed connecting with him over email far too much.

Her notification pinged and she grabbed the phone, pressing the button. She read it twice while she leaned on the bathroom counter, first with curiosity, then with a smile and growing hum between her thighs. He preoccupied much of her thoughts. Probably too much for a guy who paid to see her strip from behind a computer screen.

She was surprised by how quickly she felt a strong connection to a man she had never seen, a man she only spoke with via a text medium. But he made her laugh and aroused her with just typed words on a screen.

Today’s email was a detailed description of what he’d like to do to her. It would take hours to do it all, and likely she’d pass out from sensory overload, but the fantasy of it roused her interest.

She glided to her bed, stretching out on the soft sheets, pulling her vibrator from under the pillows. She focused on his words, letting them run over her body, teasing her, coming to life inside of her until she reached the pinnacle of pleasure. WIth his name on her lips, the image she created of him in her mind, she let herself fall over the edge.

If you want the backstory for this couple, take a look at this post on Asrai’s blog! And if you want even more–click here for a preview of the first four chapters of More Than Friends!

Guest Blogger Kay Jaybee Makes Voyeurs of Us All!!!

Kay Jaybee is a friend, as well as one of the most amazing and inspiring people I know. The real deal through and through–as well as one of The Brit Babes! Her erotica makes my heart…and other parts throb! With the re-release of The Voyeur–if you have not already–let Kay captivate you!

Voyeuristic Fun!

Many thanks for letting me visit your wonderful blog today!

One of the biggest attractions in the world of erotica is voyeurism. That feeling of being on the edge of someone’s forbidden world and peeping in- often secretly- is a big turn on. It is also extremely exciting to write from a voyeuristic perspective. I’ve taken this literary route for many of my novels and stories over the years- most obviously for my erotic BDSM ménage thriller/ erotic romance, The Voyeur!

 

Blurb

Wealthy business man and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite S&M club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff. His Personal Assistant, Anya Grant, and his Housekeeper, Clara Hooper.

Upon the backs of his willing slaves, Mark has written out his fantasy list in thick red pen. Only Fantasy 12 awaits the tick of completion against their flesh before Mark’s ultimate fantasy – Fantasy 13- can take place.

But have the girls performed well enough to succeed in the final challenge? And what hold does the Bridge’s Gentleman’s Club, Anya’s previous employer, have over Mark? A place Anya was only too delighted to escape from.

In order to find out, Mark’s girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they’d left behind them all over again; and while they do, Mark will watch…

 

Excerpt

Mark took a step closer to his PA. “Tonight,” he said, pulling off Anya’s shirt and bra, exposing her luscious chest to the cool of the room, “you will both face a combination of experiences that together make up Fantasy 12. Won’t it be lovely to be able to tick another task off our list, girls?”

They didn’t answer; experience had taught them that nine times out of ten their employer’s questions were rhetorical.

Mark twisted the women round; removing Clara’s top as he did so, so he could see both his employees’ bare backs. There, in neat script, a permanent pen had been used to write ‘Fantasy 1’, ‘Fantasy 2’ and so on, all the way down–the numbers following the length of their spines, finishing with the words ‘Fantasy 13’. The first eleven rows of black lettering had bright red ticks next to them.

“Only two more tasks left to go.”

This time the girls risked a fleeting glance at each other; exchanging a look of mutual blood-hammering exhilaration twinned with an erotic anticipation it would have been hypocritical to deny.

Mark, during his brief periods of leisure, had painstakingly detailed many lust-driven scenarios he wished to both direct and bring to life. He often wrote notes, accompanied by intricate diagrams of erotic, slightly disturbing, but ultimately satisfying fantasies, in a leather-bound journal that only he was allowed to read.

Anya and Clara knew that the final fantasy, when it came, would be more difficult and different to anything they’d ever previous experienced. They feared it.

They also longed for it.

Mark was a clever man, for as each new task unfolded he pushed his faithful staff along with him, darkening their desires and needs. Changing them so they slowly became closer and closer to his own. Making his girls as keen as he was to see how far they could go. To see how much they could physically take as they accompanied him on his journey of extreme sexual sightseeing.

A cold, clammy sheen of perspiration broke out on Anya’s face, arms, and breasts as Mark danced a finger across her skin. “You will both go to your room and change into the clothes I’ve placed upon your beds. You will remain there until I call you.” Mark pointed to the door, and his employees headed to their small, twin-bedded room without a sound.

As Anya considered some of the things she and Clara had been required to do over the last six months, she privately reassured herself that the trepidation shooting down her spine was understandable and acceptable. It was also irrational, for she knew that Fantasy 12 would not only be tolerable, but enjoyable; and that just because the end of the list was in sight, it didn’t mean the night ahead would involve anything worse than Mark had asked of them before. She could handle this. They both could–no problem.

Then Anya saw her outfit.

Her bed supported nothing but a leather dog collar.

Staring at the total lack of clothing, Anya almost conveyed her horror to Clara, but her lover stopped her with an urgent shake of the head. There was no privacy here, and they never knew if the webcams positioned in every room were switched on or not…

***

If you’d like to know what happened next, discover how Clara became Mark’s second slave, and see how the girls cope with Mark’s extreme list of fantasies, you can buy The Voyeur from all other good retailers, including…

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo

GooglePlay

 

Many thanks for letting me visit you today. xx

 

Bio

Kay Jaybee was named Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETO

Kay received an honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.

Kay Jaybee has over 180 erotica publications including, A Kink a Day- Book One (KJBooks, 2018), The Voyeur (Sinful Press, 2018), Knowing Her Place-Book 3: The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, (KJBooks, 2018),  The Retreat- Book2: The Perfect Submissive Trilogy (KJBooks, 2018), Making Him Wait (Sinful Press, 2018), The Fifth Floor- Book1; The Perfect Submissive Trilogy (KJBooks, 2017), Wednesday on Thursday, (KDP, 2017), The Collector (KDP, 2016), A Sticky Situation (Xcite, 2013), Digging Deep, (Xcite 2013), Take Control, (1001 NightsPress, 2014), and Not Her Type (1001 NightsPress), 2013.

Details of all her short stories and other publications can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk

You can follow Kay on –

Amazon

Twitter

Facebook

Goodreads

Brit Babes Site

Kay also writes contemporary romance and children’s picture books as Jenny Kane www.jennykane.co.uk  and historical fiction as Jennifer Ash www.jenniferash.co.uk

 

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Guest Blogger Jade A. Waters Gives Us Aural!!!

My friend Jade A. Waters is no stranger to my blog, that is because she always raises the bar and inspires me…read and listen below! Jade is now an audiobook narrator! My first dip into the audio world was from Rose Caraway, who has a new blog post telling you about Jade’s journey to becoming a narrator. you can read that here.

Below Jade has given us her poems and samples of her narrating them! Pssst, I like to listen, and I bet you will too!

 

Hi everyone! I’m thrilled to be back visiting the lovely F. Leonora Solomon, who has always been such a dear heart and supporter of my poetry. That’s why I’m ecstatic she let me swing by today to share my latest poetry news: that it’s gone into the audio world!

Let me start at the beginning, with the A to Z Blogging Challenge that happens every April. For those of you who have never heard of it, the challenge is one in which participants write a blog post each day for the month that corresponds to the letter of the day—and in my case, I’d decided not only that I needed to do something in my poetry practice, but that I needed to connect each lettered poem through a full story in verse.

What came of this was A Love Affair, From A to Z, a bittersweet love story that arced through the alphabet. I posted it each day on my poetry site in episodic form, but later, I wanted to give this narrative in verse more life—as in, I wanted to breathe more life into it, and the best way I saw to do that was to jump on narrating it!

The experience was fun, challenging, liberating, and new…and I loved every second of it. And now, I’m delighted to share a sample of the story in verse here on Leonora’s blog! The clip you’ll hear below is a sample of the story from B to C…but as the story starts with A, you’ll want to read along with the start of the poem to get your bearings.

Here’s the beginning of A Love Affair, From A to Z, with audio:

A Love Affair, From A To Z

Written and Narrated by Jade A. Waters

Always

“Always,”
He tells her,
“Always I will be here, love you, hold you close”
The words are a melody in her ear
The antidote to all she’s known,
The graze of his fingers over her lips
The sweetest touch
She’s been waiting for.
“Always,” she whispers back,
Her heart perched on the edge,
Waiting for him to grasp it
To clutch it close,
To honor it as deeply
As the two of them fall
Into the spell that’s lingered between them
All these hours over drinks,
All these nights they’ve been pretending
All these years they’ve been waiting,
Waiting for this.

A Love Affair, From A to Z – Sample

Beautiful

Beautiful is how she sees it
How she’s known this, him
The silent love they’ve shared
Is the perfect bar crawl
On the longest evening
Repeated, over and over again.
The laugh that echoes between them
Is the song for all they have yet to say,
So when they begin to crash together
To melt, colliding
Into this love like they’d always known they would,
His lips on hers are honey
His breath in her ear like a rainstorm
Prickling her skin, teasing her lashes
Wrapping her up in the sanctity of what they will be.
His palms slip along the flesh of her back
Her neck, her hips, her thighs
And she is naked now, finally, for him.

Cascading

Cascading
She calls it—
Like the waterfall of love they’ve tried to hold back

With the world’s strongest dam is now

Tumbling, rippling, rolling,
A surge of lust and waves
Capturing them, sweeping them away
Beneath the fiercest moonlight she’s ever seen.
It’s brighter than every moonlight that’s ever shined above them
Waiting for this moment
Like they have all these years.

It’s so different from what they’d expected—
“Our first time wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he says,
And she smiles at the love, at the dreams he’s had as crystal clear as she has
When they slip closer together,
Leather scraping her knees in the back seat of his car
While they kiss so deep
Bodies pressed
Finding each other, again
Finally
Tonight.

*

I loved narrating this story, so I hope you enjoyed hearing it, too. Thanks for reading and listening!

And a special thanks to F. for always encouraging my poetry writing, and for having me over to visit!

XX,
Jade

Audiobook Buy Links:

Audible           Itunes           Amazon

Ebook Buy Links:

Amazon             Amazon UK               Amazon Canada         Barnes and Noble          Ibooks            Kobo

About Jade:

Jade A. Waters is a fiction writer, poetess, and voice over artist in California. She is the author and narrator of A Love Affair, From A to Z, and the author of the Lessons In Control trilogy. Her short erotic fiction and poetry has been featured in publications by Cleis Press, Coming Together, Fuse Literary, Cosmopolitan UK, and Stupid Fish Productions, including Best Women’s Erotica of the Year (Vol. 1), Best Erotic Romance of the Year, and Best Women’s Erotica 2014. Her stories have also been narrated on The Kiss Me Quick’s Erotica Podcast. Find out more about Jade on her website at http://jadeawaters.com, or visit her on Twitter and Amazon.

The Prison of Angels by Janine Ashbless is out — aka more Egan!!!

You know when you have a crush on a character? First let me say that Janine Ashbless is a magician, this series is so compelling and more time for me to spend with my crush, Egan! Janine has been very kind to interview him for me and yeah, I am swooning! Come spend some time with me, Janine and Egan–and of course get the book if you have not already!!!

Janine Ashbless: Today I’m here with Egan Kansky, one of the two main men in my new novel, The Prison of the Angels. Egan is a renegade priest-slash-trained-killer working for a secret agency within the Vatican, and his rival in love is a fallen angel; they’re both after my heroine Milja. Hello Egan – you’re looking good!

Egan: Sure, thanks. I think.

JA: I mean, at the end of the previous book, In Bonds of the Earth, you were literally dying.

Egan [coldly]: I got better.

JA: Roshana had beaten seven shades of hell out of you, hadn’t she? Smashed both your legs. Broke a bunch of ribs.

Egan: Nephilim are deadly dangerous. And they only get worse after you kill their bodies. That’s how you end up with demons.

JA: But Milja dealt with her. She told you how, I presume?

Egan: She did. She’s incredibly resourceful, is Milja. And brave. And loyal — in her own way… Sure, I’d have left the Big Guy to rot, in her position. But she went back for him, despite the odds.

JA: You make a good couple, you two. And you’ve let slip to her how you feel about her, at last. Yay! You’ve told her twice, in fact; you just don’t remember the first time.

Egan. Ah … that wasn’t smart of me. We both know that it can’t happen.

JA: Funny how it keeps happening, then. You just can’t stay away from her, can you? Can’t keep your hands off her, either. We know what happened in that lodge in Norway last night!

Egan [looks uncomfortable]: I never said I was a good man. Just the opposite, actually.

JA: Yeah… I remember last time we talked. But, for the record, I want to tell you I enjoyed writing your sex scenes even more than I did those for fallen angel Azazel. In this love triangle I’m sort of on your side, to my amazement.

Egan: What do you mean?

JA: I know Azazel’s technically better-looking, ‘cause he’s an angel, and he’s like this non-stop sex-machine, and he’s even sort of sweet in his murderous Baphomety way…

Egan: Is this your idea of a pep-talk?

JA: But you — Wow. You are so complicated! You are a mess of contradictions, and you’ve got these layers and layers of half-lies and denial and really serious kink and darkness under a shell of “nice”. I’ve just loved finding out about you! You’re like a puzzle that I’ve had to solve while writing the trilogy. And every time you get close to Milja it’s, like, more agony and anguish for you! It’s really hot, from my point of view.

Egan: You’re a bit of a sadist, aren’t you, Ashbless?

JA: And don’t you respond well to that! Come on, Egan — you love it when Milja pushes you to the edge. It drives you nuts when you’re constrained and out of control. I mean, if we look back to the first book, Cover Him with Darkness, that very first time you met Azazel…

Egan: Whoa. We are not going there!

JA: Oh, we’re going further than that, lovely boy. I’ve got a scene lined up for the three of you that’ll send you to the edge and beyond. It’s going to break you, Egan. Don’t panic; you’ll thank me for it afterward.

Egan [through gritted teeth]: Oh, I really doubt that.

JA: You will. Because I’ve got to break you to make you open up to Milja. To tell her the thing that you’ve been hiding from her all this time.

Egan: You mean … about the other archangel? Rome?

JA: No. I mean about you. I mean that. You’re going to give up your secrets, Egan. Even the worst one in your heart. Because you can’t really love her until you trust her.

Egan: Please, no…

JA: C’mon. You know how I love it when you beg. [laughs] Brace yourself Egan — it’s got to get worse before it gets better…

The Prison of the Angels, the final novel in the Book of the Watchers trilogy, and the story of a young woman who releases a fallen angel from centuries of imprisonment, is now available from Sinful Press.

“When there’s war in Heaven, on which side will you stand?”

Sinful Press
Amazon UK

Amazon US

Kobo

Google Play

Barnes and Noble

iTunes

Praise for this series:

Book 1: Cover Him with Darkness

Book 2: In Bonds of the Earth

“An absolute must-read.”

Rose Caraway, The Sexy Librarian

“Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code, only much better written and with much more sexiness involved.”

—Clitical

“Oh it’s incredible. I love this series and the final book is a masterpiece.”

—Anna Sky, Sexy Little Pages

Janine Ashbless is a writer of fantasy erotica and steamy romantic adventure – and that’s “fantasy” in the sense of swords ‘n’ sandals, contemporary paranormal, fairytale, and stories based on mythology and folklore. She likes to write about magic and mystery, dangerous power dynamics, borderline terror, and the not-quite-human.

Janine has been seeing her books in print ever since 2000, and her novels and single-author collections now run into double figures. She’s also had numerous short stories published by Black Lace, Nexus, Cleis Press, Ravenous Romance, Harlequin Spice, Storm Moon, Xcite, Mischief Books, and Ellora’s Cave, among others. She is co-editor of the nerd erotica anthology Geek Love.

www.janineashbless.blogspot.com

www.janineashbless.com

Goodreads

Janine Ashbless Facebook

Amazon UK Author Page

Amazon US Author Page

Amorous about Amorous Congress

Amorous Congress is my third anthology with Riverdale Avenue Books (preceded by the award-winning Tie Me Up and Bases Loaded). As an editor, I have published over a dozen anthologies, but the just published feeling is something that I can never get over–the feeling is close to orgasmic! Anthologies are special, you get several authors giving you their take on the theme–and in my case their erotic take on the theme. A hard, but layered with pleasure job, to go through all of them to find the creme de la creme for you!

I wanted to do this anthology, because at the time I was very obsessed with the dearly departed Museum of Morbid Anatomy in Brooklyn, New York. Repeated visits there, filled me with a sensualism that I was not expecting and that kept me enthralled. The Victorian era was very sensual–even with its intimate observation of death. I went to the Met at this time as well, and saw their exhibition Death Becomes Her which focused on the fashion for widows at this time. I even felt that the mourning ritual was sensual, which was solidified by getting to speak to one of the Met curators at Morbid Anatomy who confirmed this.

Or maybe I just feel everything is sensual?!

But seeing what had been going on at that time, I wanted to focus a bit more on it, and the idea for Amorous Congress was born–since erotica is my thing. The stories I got, were more than I ever could have expected. They are contemporary, steampunk and historical erotica–including a rewrite of a character from a period classic. Every story in Amorous Congress is sensual, and left me breathless. I am a seasoned pro, but good erotica does that to you!

I wanted the cover to be special, so I asked my friend and graphic artist extraordinaire Oleander Plume to design the cover for me. She did an AMAZING job, yes, you have to judge this book by its cover! It is my most photographed cover ever, and it is worth it. The cover is amazing–worthy of the period–and the inside will blow you away! There is nothing dusty or stodgy about this collection, the period if nothing else makes the stories even more sensual…

I know you are drooling over the cover! Go get your own copy to drool over here in bed!

amorous congress photo by nicolas laborie

Super Duper Guest Blogger Oleander Plume Brings Superstar Horatio Slice to Us in a Flash!!!

Horatio Slice is hot af! *Fans* When Oleander Plume asked me to be part of his blog tour, I was a groupie just like anybody else! And she wrote a sexy flash for me which I am going to post here, and at my Friday Flash blog. Oleander and Horatio are just badass like that, gotta spread the love!!!

 

It’s only rock and roll but I like it…

When I see his name on my calendar, I cringe. Horatio Slice. Just the name sets my teeth on edge. According to my editor, Patty Shane, this interview is top priority.

“Like him or not, the kid sells,” Patty says, “Have you seen the proofs of the cover photos? Sweet Jesus on the cross, Caleb, if I had a uterus, I would fill it with his baby.”

“Why the fuck do I have to meet with him in person? No one does that any more. I interviewed Bono over the phone just last week.”

Horatio Slice, Patty informs me, hates talking on the phone, something about a fear of being misquoted, which I think is bullshit. But, Patty signs my checks and I like to eat, so I reluctantly agree to meet with this new era rock god in his hotel room.

I think I’m prepared, until he answers the door. The dude is huge. Linebacker huge. He smiles and sticks out a hand.

“Wow, Caleb Wallace from Rolling Stone magazine, I feel like I’m dreaming, man.”

I don’t like the firm way he shakes my hand while staring into my eyes. It’s unnerving. The fucker. No one should be that good looking.

“Let’s get this over with,” I mumble, feeling like a dick when I notice the hurt expression on his face. “I mean, you’re probably sick of talking to reporters, right?”

The smile returns. “Yeah, maybe a little, but I can’t wait to talk to you. You’re Caleb Wallace.”

By now I’m thinking the kid is a little stoned. I follow him inside, and we both take a seat in the living room of his fancy suite. I set my mini tape recorder on the coffee table and press record.

“So, Horatio Slice, how goes the tour?”

“Amazing. Happy to be in New York, my home base.” He flips that long hair out of his eyes. “Hey, would you like a beer or something?” A glance at my recorder. “Sorry. You can edit that out, right?”

Yup. Stoned. “No worries,” I say with a force smile. “I understand you’re quite the sex symbol. What’s that like?” Glancing around the suite, I don’t see what I expect, namely women’s panties draped over every available surface.

His expression tightens. “I don’t consider myself a sex symbol. Just a musician.”

“Come on, dish me some dirt, Horatio. Strictly off the record.” He just stares at me. “I’m an old man, kid, let me live vicariously through you.”

After a long sigh, he says, “I thought you’d be different. I thought you’d want to talk about the music.”

The music. That’s the reason I became a rock journalist in the first place. When did I turn into such a jaded prick? “Let’s start over,” I say, rewinding the tape. “Let’s talk about the music.”

And we do. Minutes turn to hours. One beer turns into four. The conversation drifts from sixties acid rock to nineties grunge and all points in between. Somehow, we end up sitting next to each other on the couch. His knee touches mine and my balls tighten.

This is why I balked at the interview, I realize. I knew I’d want him, knew I’d want to touch those firm muscles and stroke that olive skin. Slide that zipper down and suck and suck and suck. Even at 40, I’m in shape, attractive even, but this guy is way out of my league.

And I hate accepting that.

But a few whiskey shots later, my dick tells my brain to fuck off. Something about the way he’s looking at me – lips parted, eyes heavy-lidded – makes me think he won’t mind if I slowly slide my fingers over his bulge.

“I want to suck it,” I say, enjoying the way his dick hardens beneath my touch.

“This is, like, the best interview ever,” he says.

The rumors are true. Horatio Slice has a behemoth between his legs. Erect and majestic. I lick the crown and the taste of him goes right to my head. Now starving for cock, I swallow that beast and suck with all I’m worth.

He likes to talk dirty. “Suck me with that hot mouth,” he says, fingers gently playing with my hair. “Then, I’ll blow you until you come. Or maybe I’ll let you fuck me. Would you like to fuck me?”

Like he even needs to ask.

Yes, you now have an all access pass to Oleander Plume's AMAZING new novel, with my friends at Go Deeper Press! I know I want a slice of Horatio Slice…sigh…

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To Have…Guest Blogger Malin James Talk About Roadhouse Blues!!!

Malin James is a special friend, and as far as I am concerned (and as I tweeted yesterday), she is the gold standard as a writer, and more importantly as a human. I am honored to have her as my guest today, with a decadent post after my own heart to promote her new collection, Roadhouse Blues, with Go Deeper Press!!!


Thank you so much for having me, Ms. F! It’s a privilege and honor to be here! 

My collection of linked short stories, Roadhouse Blues, came out this week with Go Deeper Press, but I didn’t want to do a standard Please Buy My Book!!! promo post, (though if you’re at all inclined to by my book, please do – you won’t hear me complain). Don’t get me wrong, I’m damn proud of the collection, but I wanted to talk about it in a different way—one that taps into some of the aesthetics Ms. F and I share. So. Let’s talk about noir.

I love noir and classic films. I always wanted to include a noir story in Roadhouse Blues, but I wasn’t quite sure how or where a story like that would fit. Roadhouse Blues is set in Styx, a blue-collar, truck stop town in the middle of nowhere. It’s dusty and oppressive and the most glamorous thing around is the tabloid rack at the local Pak ‘n Buy. It’s about as far from a gritty urban jungle full of hard-nosed men and glossy, sinister dames as you can get.

I was about ten stories into drafting the collection and had pretty much decided to save the smoky, Sam Spade feeling for a different collection, when I started writing what would become the title story, “Roadhouse Blues.”

Roadhouse Blues” is one of a handful of stories set in Rowdy’s Roadhouse, the only strip club for miles. Mick, the protagonist, tends bar and keeps a general eye on things. At the start of the story, he’s getting over a messy divorce and has pretty much vowed never to get involved with anyone ever again, but that doesn’t mean he can’t text (and maybe sext) with a woman named Jett, whom he met on a classic film forum online. But when Jett comes to the roadhouse late one night, she upends Mick’s lonely intentions.

Jett is sultry and sassy and damn, can she crack wise. The woman walks around like she was filmed in black and white, but under the Lauren Bacall glamour, she needs to get away from a life that isn’t working, so she runs to the middle of nowhere, straight into Mick.

As soon as Mick saw her standing in the doorway, I knew I had my film noir story. A beautiful woman with a mysterious past, a good man worn down by life…. So, I stayed with it until it became clear that the whole point of the story was to get Mick from “of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine” to “here’s looking at you kid”. It just took a little rough sex to get him there.

While there are no crimes or gangsters or dead bodies in an alley, there’s a lot going on in “Roadhouse Blues” that directly references or pays homage to noir and classic film—the damaged characters with difficult pasts, the spikey chemistry, and yes, rough sex. More than anything, the rough sex. 

In a lot of noir and classic film, sex is a fade to black thing, but there are plenty of women getting slapped or dragged around in an implied sexual context. In the film and fiction from the ‘30’s, ‘40’s and 50’s, casual violence towards women is a window into the attitudes of the early 20th century. It’s an interesting historical snapshot, but not something I wanted to sexualize or glamorize in an erotic story in the 21st. Which is why I wrote the sex scene in “Roadhouse Blues” the way I did. As opposed to the standard trope of the femme fatale getting punished by a dominant man, Mick and Jett unequivocal equals—equals who just happen to want to slap each other around.

I like rough sex. I like it a lot, but only with the right partner. The chemistry has to be right for that kind of dynamic to work. Happily, the chemistry between Mick and Jett was right. I wanted to let consensual violence play out between two strong people, but if I was going to do that, it was important to establish the fact that they were meeting on equal ground. Mick spanks Jett, Jett decks Mick, but they do it in a way that is actively consensual, which let me dig into the dynamic to find the sweetness in the rough. I wanted to give the reader the sense that the night they spend together is full of joy for them.

Mick and Jett have a rare kind of chemistry. They naturally communicate through short hand, like the dialogue in To Have and Have Not or Double Indemnity. Because the connection they have is instinctual and highly tuned, they are able to do things that, with a different partner, would be off the table. Jett holds her own, and Mick trusts her to voice her boundaries. Jett, in turn, trusts Mick to respect them, which he instantly does. It’s an ideal version of how a dynamic like this could play out with two well-paired equals.

Unlike in noir films, when a man slaps a woman and sends her sprawling before a fade to black, Jett gives as good as she gets, and Mick falls for her because of it. I wanted to see how their dynamic would play out, especially with the ghost of black and white film underpinning the story. I wanted to see what would happen if Bogart and Bacall got a little rough with each other while they were falling in love. I didn’t think I’d have a chance to do that in this collection, but Mick and Jett surprised me, and I’m glad they did.

 

To read an excerpt from the story, “Roadhouse Blues” click here.

Are you swooning like me? Want more Malin? I am so happy to be part of her blog tour–here are the links to the rest of it!

The Go Deeper Press Launch Post

Interview with Xan West

Interview with Emmanuelle de Maupassant 

Review by Ella Dawson

Interview with Jade A. Waters

Review by Jo Henny Wolf

 

 

 

 

Guest Blogger Jade A. Waters Gives Us The Reward!!!

I am so honored to be here today! First, it’s such a treat to get to visit the lovely F. Leonora, especially with her incredible cheers and notes of encouragement to, like, everyone in the writing community. She is a superstar and I have never been more grateful to know such a sweet person! But today, it gets even better—because Leonora has honored me beyond belief in celebration of the release of the last book in the Lessons in Control series, The Reward

See, our dear F. has long been enthusiastic over my poetry habit. Because of this, I’ve always been eager to not only talk about flow and verse with her, but to share poetry connected to book one, The Assignment, like I did back at the launch of the series. But today, fantastic Leonora has paid the biggest, most hugest of honors to me.

She wrote a poem for the Lessons In Control series!

 

bottle

you’re like a mist

the thin film of you invisible

tactile to the flesh

an ache from your aura

this desire i fell over every crevice

nothing untouched

that burns me up inside

there is always a fever

deep in my

core

you reach in so deep where you

touch

i cannot quench myself

i need you all of you to slip

into me like i am the

bottle that contains you as a

genie

you are magic

hidden as a mist but

everywhere upon

me

 

That’s right, guys. Right here, you get to see Leonora’s verse. Yes! What I particularly love about this poem—besides the fact that she wrote it inspired by my series and sent a picture of it to me in its early form written in her beautiful cursive—is that it really captures the feeling between Maya and Dean throughout the series. Theirs is a passionate, deep, intense love that is fueled by their sultry sexual dynamic, and I can’t get over how beautifully Leonora sprung off that to write her poem. When Maya and Dean meet in book one, The Assignment, Maya is compelled to find out more about Dean…and by the time we get to The Reward, out now, they are both deep in their sexy relationship with no signs of giving up their D/s exploration. I had such a blast writing this series, and now having Leonora write a poem inspired by it? Hot damn. That’s better than any fan fiction I can think of!

So, let’s give a round of applause to Leonora for writing this sexy poem and for sharing it here today. I have no doubt you’d find it as delicious as I did! Thanks for the tribute, Leonora!!

Speaking of sultry, Jade is a frequent guest–read her previous guest posts here. Can’t get enough of Jade? Go visit her blog!

The Reward is out now!!! Reward yourself, and get your copy here! You can also get the first two Lessons in Control books on sale now!!!

 

 

Jade A. Waters Gives Us Well Deserved Discipline!!

First there was The Assignment, and now there is The Discipline! I am always happy to invite my friend Jade A. Waters on my blog because she is AWESOME! Even before I knew Jade, she was an inspiration to me. And with the completion of this series, I am in complete awe of her because she is the real deal–and she writes like a dream! Unless you have been under a rock, I cannot imagine that you do not know what a brilliant and beautiful writer Jade is! But it is not beneath me to initiate you into the world that is Jade’s, with an excerpt from her latest!!!

Excerpt from The Discipline, by Jade A. Waters:
“I’m dying to know more of what you’ve got planned,” I said.
“Mmm. Good.” The gravelly sound of his voice hastened my pulse. We were almost nine months in, closer, stronger, well versed in this magical game between us, yet the gravid atmosphere of the room bristled with an all new energy in the time it took Dean to lead me into the lounge area before stopping me beside one of the couches. “Because I have many things in mind.”
My knees wobbled beneath me, my chest lifting in sync with the speeding of my breath. Sparks burst along my spine and spread through the base of my skull as he stepped in front of me and sat on the arm of the couch. “Will you share? What do I have to do to earn my rewards?”
Dean lifted his fingers up to his neck to loosen the tie he’d worn. His gaze was so heavy I clenched my knees together. “For every thing we do, every test, you’ll get a reward.”
Test. God, I loved the things he said to me. I didn’t move, keeping my hands flush against my sides while he unfastened his top button. With his tie askew, the top of his chest exposed and that magnificent light in his eyes, I was amazed the clank of my heart hadn’t deafened me yet.
“Whatever fantasy you want, Maya, it’s yours.”
He remained still, the picture of confident, sexy and in control that I loved. I’d gotten used to every side of him, including the scruffy and relaxed version that tied me up while he wore something as simple as jeans and a T-shirt. But dressed up and debonair, the drawl of his words and the casual sling of his body shot a current of lust through my veins.
“What’s my first test?”
“You pick your poison.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Get everything we brought,” he said, tilting his head toward our bags. “Lay it all out. Pick the one—the ones—you want tonight. But…” he paused, one hand caressing my waist, “…the condition is that whatever you pick must include some way for me to bind you.”
I pressed my hands tighter to my thighs, somehow knowing it was better to wait, no matter how much I ached to scurry about and make it start. I needed his touch, his command.
Dean’s fingers slipped along my hips, squeezing me once before he dug his thumbs into my hip bones. When I moaned, he said, “Let’s go, naughty girl.”
My heels felt unsteady as I crossed over to our things, Dean doing nothing but sitting in place to watch. I picked up the cinch bag I’d repacked before dinner, then rummaged in his suitcase for the bag he tended to carry our things in. The mass of them both in my arms was heavy, and I clutched them to my chest while I walked back to Dean. After I set the bags beside the glass coffee table, I kicked off my shoes and dropped to my knees to better spread everything across its surface.
“How are you so damn good?” Dean stepped up behind me, one hand curving under my chin to make my groin flex. His presence against me, grazing my shoulder as I started pushing each piece around, made it difficult to contain my breath. But this test was sexy. I arranged everything like it was meant to be on display in a gallery; first I laid out Dean’s black rope, then the coil of burgundy rope I’d brought. Next the vibrator, lube and flogger, this last piece taking up a whole corner of the table on its own. In his bag I also found the bed straps we often used at his place. After that, I lowered the leather cuffs to the table.
Dean ran his fingers through my hair, stroking the long strands from the root and down as far as he could reach. “We’ll need more in time, but we’ve got a good little selection going, don’t we?”
The heat steamrolling my body almost made me scream when Dean gave my hair a firm tug to tilt my head up. He was grinning.
And I was wet.
“We do.”
“So what’s your pick, beautiful?”
I reached for the cuffs first. Dean groaned.
“Exquisite. You look extraordinary with those around your wrists.”
I curled my toes in the carpet, then pitched over the table. My hand floated over the rope, a purposeful tease before I looked up at Dean and shifted my hand above the flogger. This time, I grinned. I wrapped my fingers around the handle and Dean gave my hair another tug.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
“Yes. I want to try it.”
He was the breathless one now, and it turned me on even more—how bright his eyes were, how, for a moment, he couldn’t keep his calm.
“But…I want more,” I said.
Dean wet his lips as I laid my hands on both the vibrator and the lube.
“I want you to fuck my ass after.”
“Is that your fantasy tonight, sexy?” He twisted my hair in his hand, the pressure firm on my scalp. “How you’d like to come?”
I resisted his hold to swing my head up and down, the move exciting us both, and once Dean drew me into his arms, his body pressed hot to mine. When I started to drag my hands up his back, he pushed them behind me. From the opening in his shirt, I smelled the hint of amber on his skin over his masculine, natural scent. In his embrace I already felt myself falling before his mouth drifted closer to mine.
            “Whatever you want is yours.”
The Discipline, book two of Lessons in Control, available now!
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