Guest Blogger: Victoria Blisse

by | Feb 22, 2013 | | 0 Comments

Vanilla with Extra NutsMore than Ice Cream

We’ve all heard the term  ‘vanilla’ in contexts other than an ice cream flavour. So it comes as no surprise that my latest release Vanilla with Extra Nuts isn’t an ice cream recipe book!

She’s just a vanilla girl until she finds her perfect toppings.

Megan is slowly falling in love with Adam until he confesses he’s seeing a guy behind her back. She thinks the relationship has been ruined until the night she indulges in a threesome with the man she loves and Simon, his lover.

As much as she enjoys being sandwiched between the two men she’s not sure the arrangement can last. So Megan has to decide.

Can she come to terms with sharing the man she adores with his male lover or will she have to say goodbye to her soulmate forever?

No, it’s something far tastier. Megan is a simple girl with simple desires and she’s completely blown away when she discovers her boyfriend is far more complex than she first thought. I really enjoyed discovering new things with Megan and it’s why I ended up titling the book as I did. It felt like she was discovering new favourites. So when you’ve got your favourite ice-cream flavour and you want to find the perfect toppings to go on it. I personally think you can’t go wrong with sprinkles on any flavour ice cream! What’s your favourite ice cream topping?

Megan discovers her favourite is extra nuts, here’s a scorching hot excerpt to illustrate that:

His breath caressed my wet lips and my clit perked up under its soft, arousing caress. I don’t think I breathed for a minute or more as I waited. Then as his mouth pressed against my plump lips I let it all out in one long moan. As his tongue lapped against me, bumping my sensitive flesh and my eager clit, I gasped and pushed my hips up. I felt the restriction of Adam’s leg keenly as I tried to press more of my hungering pussy to the very talented lips and tongue rubbing me in all the right ways.

Adam kissed me, cutting off my moans and muffling my gasps. Two tongues invaded me and teased me to the very heights of ecstasy. I was overloaded with the different touches and strokes over my body and I knew in a matter of moments I would explode. Then Simon stopped and I think I whimpered.

“Not yet, love, not yet.” Simon cooed and winked at me as I pouted down at him. “Damn, you and Adam make a fan-fucking-tastic cocktail. I always thought you would. I want to drink from your freshly fucked pussy on a regular basis now. It’s addictive.” I blushed but I smiled too. However, the smile was soon replaced as my jaw dropped. Simon parted Adam’s thighs and placed his juice covered lips around the very hard cock of my boyfriend. I’ve never seen a man give a blowjob before, nope never, so as well as being as hot as hell I found watching Simon’s technique very enlightening.

He used his hands to tease and stroke Adam’s balls almost constantly and he kept up a steady rhythm. I ran a finger through my sticky folds as I watched eagerly and took note. Simon pulled away suddenly and it was Adam’s turn to whimper with disappointment.

“You know I love your cock, baby,” Simon purred, “but right now I want to feel that gorgeous pussy wrapped around my dick. You don’t mind, do you, buddy?”

“No, no, I completely understand. Go ahead man, fuck her. I can see she’s gagging for it.”

My jaw dropped in disbelief at the way Adam just treated me like some kind of possession, but I said nothing because I really did want to be fucked and I was, as he’d said, gagging for it. Simon moved back between my thighs and leaned over to the bedside table. He opened the little drawer and pulled out a condom. Obviously he was used to Adam’s habits and for a minute I felt the old feelings of jealousy and upset overcoming me, but as Simon sat back on his heels, peeled open the packet, and rolled the condom over his thick cock I forgot all that and the lust over took my emotions once again.

Adam pressed his cheek against mine as we both craned our necks to watch Simon’s cock press between my lips. I felt so cherished, so sexy in that moment as one hot guy slipped inside of me and another held me close in his arms. Adam and I both watched enraptured for a few moments as Simon’s cock worked in and out of my slippery cunt. I was on fire, my cheeks and my chest were enflamed with heat. I tingled all over, my skin so sensitive every subtle touch brought me ever closer to orgasm.

Adam kissed me and his hand ran down over my stomach. I closed my eyes and concentrated on his lips on mine. It was such a strange sensation to have one man fuck you and one man kiss you, but it was good and something I wanted to experience again and again. I groaned when his fingers slipped down to my clit. As Simon fucked me Adam rubbed me just how I liked.

Adam’s lips left mine and again we were cheek to cheek watching what happened between my thighs. I found it hard to hold my eyes open, the pleasure grew in intensity and I didn’t want to miss one moment of this amazing experience. But eventually the sensations became too much and the ecstasy shot through me with such power my eyelids rattled shut as a desperate, orgasmic scream ripped from me.

Pick up your copy from:

Amazon US
Amazon UK
All Romance eBooks

*****

Victoria-Blisse-smallVictoria Blisse is a Mother, Wife, Christian, Manchester United Fan and Award Winning Erotica Authoress. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut Alfresco and Smut in the City and Smut by the Sea Anthologies.

Victoria is also one of the brains behind the fabulous Smut by the Sea Event taking place at Scarborough Library (UK) on the 22nd June 2013. A day dedicated to Erotica with a mini erotic marketplace and lots of Author Readings, Fun Giveaways and Exciting Talks.

She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker (She is TEB’s Resident “Naked Chef”) and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories.

Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

You can find often find Victoria procrastinating on Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest.

Guest Blogger: Joelle Casteel

by | Feb 19, 2013 | | 4 Comments

Not going to write an introduction in 3rd person- it’s quite a struggle for me- I guess my Master did too good a job impressing upon me the fact that He hates submissives talking about themselves in 3rd person. I’m one of those who started writing as soon as teachers gave me the tools to write. I came to BDSM erotica as a teen with a flexible sexual orientation and way more experience than most my age. I just have one book out now: “Out of the Night: Book One.” It’s the first book of a proposed 9 book series called “Vala’s Story.”

—

So I will start this post with a story I’ve told in a few ways, a few times in the last few months. In September 2012, I started reading widely… from the ROMANCE category. gasp! Most people who know me would be horrified, concerned at this. Joelle reading romance novels? Has she found some secret sub-genre that has nothing to do with mainstream publishers like Harlequin that have absolutely nothing to do with her reality? Surprisingly, I had. When I’d turned my back on the romance genre back when I was in my late teens, there was no such thing as “erotic romance” as far as I knew. You wrote romance, stuff that could be sold in the grocery store, or erotica, stuff that would only be sold in the “adult bookstore.” Since then the Internet has exploded and I found two wonderful things- not only had erotica been accepted under the “romance” banner, but a variety of online publishers are specializing in erotic books of many sub-genres. During my search of these sub-genres, I found an even more amazing thing: people were writing “spanking fiction” books, often following the practices of “Domestic Discipline” in them. While I’d tried to find out more about DD on my own, wandering the Internet myself had been pretty fruitless. However I came across Sue Lyndon’s “Dark Without You” on bn.com and bought it. Read it that first day, and again a few more times- my Master enjoyed the fruits of my reading.

That’s when a whole new world opened for me. I wandered to Sue’s blog and followed her blog roll to dozens of other blogs. I read, commented. Then I started making friends with these women- yes, many of the spanking fiction authors are women, just like the romance genre as a whole. When I started asking questions about domestic discipline and loving the answers, that’s when I knew I’d found somewhere I belonged. I’ve had plenty of conversations about the differences between DD and BDSM, but I often find myself saying, “Well maybe that’s BDSM for others, but not for me!” There are so many things I love about DD and how it’s most often shown in spanking fiction. Just the name for the “submissive” partner in the relationship: “taken in hand.” Wow! First time I read that, it made me weak in the knees. And well it did other things that my Master enjoyed :D.

I’ve taken my first tentative steps to writing my own spanking fiction. I decided to work with a male/female/female polyamorous triad; I’m told by other spanking fiction authors that polyamory is underrepresented. I hope I write something a publisher likes.

—

picisto-20130126171246-872580Restless and world-weary, Mearr isn’t about to admit she needs anyone’s help, even this gorgeous man who has taken her into his home. Well one of his homes and part of this huge family she’s heard about but not met all of. She’s young, looks young, and knows it but at least she’s legal now so she can pick a new name to go with her new life…

The Queen knows he wants Mearr bad, ever since the first time he saw her in the window of the coffeehouse. He has his plan, but even a Dominant’s plans don’t always survive the unpredictability of the future. He struggles to figure out this temperamental woman he’s brought home, how best to help her. Then he takes her to his mansion…

They wait patiently for The Queen to bring Mearr home. Well to the home they’ve been redecorating for Him and for the hopes that she’ll become part of their family and be trained to please Him. Simon and Tommy have seen her, of course, being The Queen’s right and left hands; they say she’ll be a perfect addition…

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Barnes & Noble

The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf: Mirabella’s Mardi Gras Ménage by Louisa Bacio

by | Feb 18, 2013 | | 5 Comments

Mardi Gras MenageConstantly under the watchful eye of her Voodoo priestess aunt, Mirabella longs to break free during the events of Mardi Gras. Escapades draw her into the arms of Marguerite, a fiery redhead with a passion for life, and Nick, a familiar vampire who’s haunted by his transformation and past.

What starts as a new experience – a Mardi Gras Ménage – soon turns deadly, and none of their lives will ever be the same.

Available from:
Ravenous Romance
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Barnes & Noble

And all other good eBook retailers.

*****

Excerpt:

“What are you doing living here?” she asked.

He’d asked himself that question many times over in the past few months. Nick had been used to living with others for all of his life. Being alone was quite different.

“After Silver and I broke up, it didn’t feel right to keep living with Lawrence, Trevor, and Lily,” he explained.

She nodded, her eyes clearing as more time passed. “I can understand that, but I’m surprised Lawrence let you go.”

“As my sire, he can pretty much watch me wherever I’m living. I’m sure if I were to go off the deep end, he’d get some type of psychic notice,” Nick explained. “It’s strange. It feels like I don’t have privacy at times, and at others I’m totally alone.”

She cocked her head to the side, studying him. Over the past two years of knowing Mirabella, Nick didn’t quite know what to think of her. She’d always been in the presence of her aunt, who was quite overpowering. Mentally, it was hard to separate memories of the two of them. The one time he had rescued her with Trevor, Mirabella had been totally passed out—under the influence of some other type of drug, or spell, or supernatural creature. In other words, she’d definitely not been herself.

“So how come we keep meeting this way?” Nick teased. “You always seem to be running into trouble.”

“Let’s just say I’m not very street smart,” she said. “Tante Teresa has kept me isolated a bit too much. Don’t know how to make it on my own in such large crowds, but I’m starting to feel like I need to escape the prison of her watchful eye.”

“Well, you picked a hell of a way to experience it,” Nick said. “It’s not full Mardi Gras yet, but these crowds building up to those events are almost as bad. You have to be careful on the streets.”

“I’m learning that. It’s a much different world to be out there than in the store.”

“I can’t believe Teresa let you out either. She’s gotta know what it’s like out there.”

A flush brightened Mirabella’s cheeks, and Nick thought about how gorgeous she looked in his bed, the contrast of her darker skin tone to the pale blue sheets. With all the mixed-breed genetics in New Orleans, both of them looked to be of Creole heritage. True, his coloring was a bit more pale now that he was dead and all. Mirabella’s skin shimmered in the moonlight.

“I might have slipped out while she slept,” she admitted. “The lure of the music drew me out, and I wanted to see what it was like.”

Nick was experiencing a lure all of his own. Her luscious lips drew him in. She caught him watching her, and she licked a droplet of water off her bottom lip. He sat on the edge of the bed, and she leaned toward him, her eyes half-mast.

Her breath smelled sweet, like fresh almonds mixed with vanilla. He shouldn’t kiss her. She was too young and too naïve. But while his head told him to step away, his desire took over, craving the physical connection.

At this moment, though, with her ensconced within his bed, the physical possibilities loomed endless. No one knew she was here. They could do whatever they desired.

Softly, his lips brushed against hers. He slipped his hand around the back of her neck, drawing her in closer and holding her steady. He probed her mouth with his tongue, requesting entrance, and she more than willingly opened beneath him.

She sighed against his mouth. Warmth. Vitality. Life.

All the traits a beautiful young woman possessed and a vampire like him lacked.

“I’d better take you home,” he said, giving one last effort to be a gentleman.

“What if I don’t want to go?”

“I’m trying to do what’s best here,” he said. He made a move to get off the bed, and she followed him, her body curling into his. Her warmth enveloping him.

“Best for whom? Not you or me,” she said. “I want more of your kisses.”

 

*****

roadkilldress_webBio:

Louisa Bacio is the author of six erotic novels, including the paranormal series The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf, the 1Night Stand A Date with Death and numerous steamy short stories.

Bacio enjoys soaking up the sun in Southern California, and spending time with her family. In addition to writing and editing, Bacio teaches college courses in English, journalism, film studies and popular culture.

Drop in for a visit:

http://louisabacio.blogspot.com
http://www.louisabacio.com
http://www.facebook.com/louisabacio
http://www.twitter.com/louisabacio

*****

Mardi Gras Prize Package (ends 2/28/2013)

MirabellaPrizePackage

Mardi Gras package includes Kitchen Witch spices, beads, fleur di lis cookie cutter, mask, etouffee mix. Shipping to the U.S. Value is worth $20 + the cost of shipping. I reserve the right to substitute the prize in case product is not available. If the winner is international, they can choose a $15 gift card to either Amazon or Barnes & Noble.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Guest Blogger: D E Close

by | Feb 16, 2013 | | 0 Comments

“All we need to do is keep fucking.”

thenewpupilI think of this play on the Pink Floyd song title “Keep Talking” as I prepare to put the finishing touches on my new book The Lust Series Part 2: The Reckoning. I am sitting in a Pret a Manger on 54th and Park in Midtown having a cappuccino and considering how to repay the beautiful, talented and gracious Lucy Felthouse for allowing me the privilege of this guest blog. First of all yes, they do have Pret in New York and yes I go there because I lived in London for most of my life and it reminds me of “home”. But now I live here, writing Pulp and Erotic fiction and I must say I’m constantly surrounded by potential inspiration. Take the woman who just walked in. She’s a tall, slim brunette, wearing a Burberry trench coat that is pulled tight. If this was one of the many bars I frequent in the evenings I would introduce myself, but in my hung-over state I cradle my coffee and try to guess what’s going on in her mind. Is she thinking about an affair she discovered her husband is having? Perhaps the boss she has constant flirtation with? Perhaps something less novel worthy like a new case of raging thrush or something mundane like what groceries to buy. That is the curse that all of us face as writers, a constant obsession with the thoughts of potential characters.

The woman looks at me and smiles, to some extent I am guilty of eye-fucking her but really I’m just thinking about my book, and this blog. And then it hits me. It was some years ago that I saw a show on TV about what it took to keep a relationship together over a number of years. As a writer who constantly dwells on the realistic nature of relationships and marriage I found this show particularly fascinating. Not because of the psychological analysis that bored me rigid but because each couple they interviewed included one simple factor that kept their relationships together. All of them, and I mean all of them said their secret was that they could fuck through anything. I think they meant challenges in their relationships as opposed to a hurricane or an earthquake, but it raised an interesting point and was a rare recognition of the power of sex in our relationships.

Now I realize in my case I am following their advice although I’m a single guy, but nevertheless I can’t help but think the celebration of erotica and all of you continuing to read books like my own and Lucy’s can only help stoke the fire that may keep yourselves in happy relationships, whatever that may mean for you. So the next time you’re having a coffee in Pret, think of me and remember if you’re in a relationship all you need to do is keep fucking.

D E Close’s book THE LUST SERIES PART ONE: THE NEW PUPIL is available on Amazon UK and Amazon US.

New Release: Identity Crisis by Grace Marshall

by | Jan 31, 2013 | | 0 Comments

Identity CrisisIDENTITY CRISIS

GRACE MARSHALL

Available from:
Xcite Books
Amazon UK
Amazon US

Other links will be added here as they become available: http://gracemarshallromance.co.uk/books/identity-crisis/

Reclusive romance novelist Tess Delaney is the alter ego of Garrett Thorne, bad-boy brother of business tycoon Ellison Thorne. When Tess is nominated for the Golden Kiss Award, Garrett recruits PR specialist, Kendra Davis, to keep his secret and be Tess for the awards despite their mutual animosity. But when Tess is stalked by a rabid fan, an identity crisis is eclipsed by a battle for survival, and Tess Delaney, the woman who doesn’t exist, just might understand Kendra and Garrett’s hearts even better than they do.

*****

Excerpt:

Garrett felt like a naughty teenager as they sneaked out the back door, through the gate of the privacy fence and down the alley. He wore a shapeless track suit with the black hoodie pulled up over his head and a scruffy pair of Converse sneakers that weren’t exactly meant for dancing. And Kendra, well she hardly looked ratty, in his opinion. She wore low rider jeans, and where they weren’t hugging her body like a second skin, they were full of threadbare, flesh revealing holes. The black sweat top she wore was cut short enough to show a tantalizing flash of her navel and hips bones when she moved just right. It slid off one shoulder to reveal the thin lacy strap of a red bra. She wore all of her russet locks tucked up under a leather beret. Her fashion statement was topped off with black ankle boots. She looked very, very dangerous. And hot. Of course she didn’t need to dress the part for either, he thought. He was already certain on both counts.

‘You live a little closer to The Boiling Point than Dee does.’ She took his hand and nodded to where the alley T’ed with the street, and then gave way to the park on the other side. ‘She never goes there, of course. Well she did once, but that was just for Harris, then he hated it.’ She giggled. ‘God I wish I could have been there for that.’

‘Am I going to hate it?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘Probably not. You’re much more of a bad boy than Harris is, or is that all an act?’

The long line of shiny chrome Harleys out front of the squat cinder block building gave Garrett the first clue that this was not Dancing with the Stars. Kendra waved them away absently. ‘The Boiling Point’s not really a biker bar, but it’s kind of the warm-up act, I suppose you could say. Lots of bikers start off here before they head on to their usual haunts. Makes for an exciting mix. Later in the night there are almost no bikers. But there are always lots of interesting people.’

Any other time, Garrett would have been up for meeting interesting people, but tonight he couldn’t imagine anyone interesting him more than the woman on his arm. He paid the fee at the door and a surly man the size of small house with fire-engine hair and a scruffy beard stamped their hands with a red ink TBP.

Inside a live band had just begun to play to a full, but not yet crowded house. ‘The place gets raided from time to time,’ Kendra said. ‘I don’t know what all goes on. I just come here because it’s interesting.’

‘A good raid and us carted off to the police station will really give the press something to talk about,’ Garrett observed.

‘Don’t worry,’ she yelled to be heard above the band’s bass-heavy version of Highway to Hell. ‘They just got raided last week. They’ll be good to go for a while now. We can relax and enjoy ourselves.’ She pulled him onto the dance floor. ‘Best dance while there’s room. In a few hours it’ll be a real tit squeeze.’

Kendra Davis was just as stunning dark and dangerous as she was golden and romantic, as she was naked in his kitchen, and she definitely knew how to move on the dance floor. But it made Garrett more than a little nervous that he wasn’t the only one who seemed to be noticing the way the woman could shake her booty. He thought about asking her to try not to draw to much attention to herself, but he wasn’t even sure it was possible for Kendra Davis not to draw attention.

The place smelled of leather and beer, and sweat. Already there was a thick haze of pheromones invisible to the eye, but everyone there breathed them it, gave them off and reveled in the dark anticipation of what the night might bring. The look in Kendra’s eyes was bright and wicked, like she would do anything, try anything, like all the boundaries were suddenly negotiable.

And fuck, as amazing as she was like that, as much as he wanted to lose himself in the place, in the experience, there was no way he could keep from thinking about who might be watching her in that crowd, about who might be waiting for just the perfect opportunity.

As though she were reading his mind, she pulled him to her with a hand curled around his neck and spoke against his ear. ‘Oh would you relax, Garrett. Do you really think this is the kind of hang-out Tess Delaney would frequent?’

Then she slid both arms around his neck and let him pull her into a deep, hungry kiss. When it ended with an aggressive flick of his tongue, she offered a throaty giggle. ‘Marking territory, are we?’ Before he had a chance to respond, she returned the favor, plunging her tongue in deep, and tightening a fist in his hair to pull him closer.

He moved a hand to the small of her back and gave her the full frontal rub-up, enough to be sure she knew she’d gotten his cock’s attention. ‘You see where this is leading if you keep that up?’

She pulled away and gave his crotch some breathing room as the music settled into a heavy metal beat that filled the dance floor with lots of heavily booted bikers and their spandex and leather women. Garrett was surprised to find more than a few men in pressed jeans and designer polo shirts bellied up to the bar in the mix that looked like it was probably mostly low-brow. He wasn’t the only man who looked like he’d just come from a work out at the corner gym and Kendra’s shredded jeans seemed to be the fashion statement of more than a few women among a smattering of Goth and grunge and plain old red-neck jeans and tee-shirts with baseball caps.

With each song the band played, the dance floor became fuller and fuller. The strobe light flashed and the disco ball bathed the floor in sparkles as people rocked and strutted and sweated, and it became more and more difficult to tell who was dancing with whom. Garrett was about to grab Kendra by the hand and reel her back in so they could stay connected when a biker in a ZZ Top tee-shirt that smelled like an ashtray and looked like it might have been painted across his bulging pecs managed to slide in between them, turn his back on Garrett, and focus his full attention on Kendra. And suddenly all Garrett could see was his broad back.

‘Kendra,’ he called, but his voice was drowned out in the roar of Def Leppard. And that might have been okay if the man hadn’t been so fucking big. Kendra was certainly entitled to dance with whomever she liked. But he couldn’t see her. He fucking couldn’t see her! Not even her feet between the man’s shuffling boots. ‘Kendra!’ He called again. Louder this time. That at least got the man’s attention, but when he turned to see what Garrett wanted, and he could see beyond the biker’s bulk, Kendra was not there! The woman the man was dancing with had cropped blonde hair and a leather bustier several sizes too small.

‘Kendra!’ Garrett called out, louder this time, shoving his way past the biker, who pulled the blonde to him protectively. Frantically Garrett scanned the burgeoning crowd on the dance floor, scanned the women with hats. There were cowboy hats, police hats, even a few stocking caps, but there were just too many people, too many lights, too much noise. In his mind he could only think of Razor Sharp’s horrid email and Kendra’s response to it. Why the hell hadn’t he forced the issue? Why the hell hadn’t he made her tell him why she was so upset, made her tell him about the stalker Dee had mentioned. And fuck! Why had he let her talk him into bringing her here?

*****

Grace Marshall lives in South England with her husband and the growing gang of hooligan birds who frequent their feeders. When Grace isn’t busy writing something sexy and romantic, she’s busy digging in her ever-expanding veg garden or walking across the British countryside. She finds inspiration outdoors in nature, and most of her best story ideas come to her while she’s walking or gardening.

Grace is the author of the fast paced, quirky Executive Decisions Trilogy  published by Xcite Romance. The first and second novels in the trilogy are out now.

Grace Marshall’s alter-ego, K D Grace, writes critically acclaimed, best-selling erotic romance. Whether it’s sexy romance or romantic sex, between The Graces, there’s a story for you.

Find Grace here:

Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/GraceMarshallRomance

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/GM_Romance

Guest Blogger: Doris O’Connor

by | Jan 30, 2013 | | 2 Comments

Thanks so much for letting me stop over, Lucy. 🙂

Today, I’m talking voices, specifically the voices in my head. Now, if you’re a writer, you’ll get what I mean. If you’re not, bear with me. I promise you won’t need to call the men in the little white coats, not yet anyway…

You see, I’m a panster, which means my writing is entirely character driven, and I never know what’s going to happen, until I sit down and write. Which works perfectly when the voices are talking—not so much when they don’t. Nothing gets written then.

It also doesn’t work too well when the voices insist you write something that you’re not comfortable writing. This is what happened with Too Devious To Tame. I loved writing the first two books in this series. My fingers fairly flew across the keyboard, and the start of this book was no exception.

And then, the doubts crept in. I hit a scene, where I really didn’t like the way my hero behaved and where the story was heading. He had his reasons, of course, and it entirely fits the story, but I couldn’t bring myself to write anymore. Not the way it needed to be written.

You see, my heroine Jemima was a rather unlikable character in book two, and I needed to redeem her. Now, everyone has a story, and Jemima’s is heart wrenching, and real, but it is also rather dark, and it explains why she acted the way she did. Giorgio, too, has a rather colourful past and present—his connections are dangerous and reassuring in equal measures—and when I started writing this series, I was very much a newbie. I couldn’t do that story justice.

Fast forward two years, and with book one and two successfully published and doing well, and more confident in my writing skills, I revisited this story. I made it my Nano 2012 project, and wouldn’t you know it, this time my fingers flew.

Rather than doubt the voices, I followed their lead and let the story evolve into what it needed to be. As a result, this installment of the Giovanni has jumped up a heat level, and Giorgio and Jemima are not only fighting their of the scales chemistry, but also the choices they made in the past, that place them both in danger.

I had many “Oh Wow,” moments when I wrote this. Hopefully my readers will be just as surprised when they get to those twists, as I was writing them. I honestly didn’t see some of that coming. And that’s the one thing I love most about being a writer, and a panster to boot.

It’s always an adventure and a privilege to do the voices justice 🙂

Too Devious To TameBLURB:

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

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

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

Available from:
Evernight Publishing
Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
BookStrand

 

EXCERPT:            

Tears clouded her vision at the concern in his voice, and he swore and moved to untie her.

“No, I’m fine, really. Leave it. Show me how it should be, please. Help me to forget.”

He stared at her for the longest time, one large hand, hot and heavy on her belly, his gaze so intense it took her breath away.  When he finally smiled, it lit up his harsh features. She didn’t catch the murmured Italian words he mumbled under his breath, but the kiss that followed had her curl her toes into the bed with the effort to not release herself from her bonds and bury her hands in his hair to make him hurry up and fuck her.

He was breathing as heavily as she by the time he released her, and she bit back a moan when he simply ripped the rest of her dress off her. Her bra and knickers followed the fate of her dress, until she lay in front of him naked, wet, and wanting. He ran his knuckles slowly up and down her tummy in ever widening circles, and then reached across to the ice bucket with a slow grin.

“Shut your eyes for me, cara.”   His voice had dropped an octave, and her stomach dropped right with it, seeing him hold a couple of ice cubes in his fingers. She shook her head and bucked off the bed, when he flicked his hand over her breasts. Ice cold drops of water fell on her skin and trickled between the valley of her breasts. He licked the drops away, his warm tongue taking away the coldness left by the water.

“Shut your eyes, trust me. This will be so much better for you when you can’t see what I’m doing.” He kissed a path down her quivering tummy, and she blinked back tears at the tender way he caressed her abdomen. He paused to drop a long kiss just above her pubic bone, and his hot breath teased her wet folds. Her clit tingled, and she shut her eyes, as he renewed his request for her to do so. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but the bed dipped as he adjusted his weight again. His hot mouth closed over one of her nipples at the same time as the other was subjected to an ice cube being circled around it.

She gasped at the intense sensation, and Giorgio swapped sides. The difference between his warm mouth and tongue and the ice cube sent her body into spasms of need. She writhed under him, and he laughed. Again and again he repeated the process all along her body. A path of ice, followed by the warmth of his tongue as he licked the icy trails away, leaving fiery awareness in its wake. By the time he finally reached her pussy, she was hovering on the brink of orgasm. She whimpered her need when he pushed an ice cube high into her channel and then proceeded to lick around her clit, careful to never touch her when she needed him most. The melting ice cube mixed in with her own juices and trickled slowly out her hole. Her pussy clenched, and she didn’t recognize the needy voice pleading with him to please do something.

He blew against her slit and shouldered her legs wider.

“Così bello, e tutto mio.”   He followed the words with a kiss, and she screamed when he pulled her clit into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, at the same time as he pushed another ice cube into her empty channel. Her walls closed around the slippery object, and spasmed wildly as the first quivers of her orgasm hit. Giorgio groaned into her core and stepped up his sweet torture on her clit. When he pushed two fingers into her core, and massaged her sweet spot, the intensity of her orgasm hit her with the full force of freight train.

“That’s it, tesoro, fly for me.” He caught her scream of release in his mouth, and she could taste herself in the passionate kiss he gave her, dimly aware of him withdrawing his fingers and replacing them with his cock. Thick, hard, and so very long he filled her completely as he pushed into her swollen core, until he was seated to the hilt. She wrapped her legs around him and dug her feet into his calves to give him better access and to take him as deep as she could. He started thrusting, every move driving him deeper into her, and tumbling her right over the edge again, as her inner muscles contracted around his thick member. Faster and faster he pumped, his harsh breathing in her ear the most erotic sound ever, his hands and lips seemingly everywhere, arousing every little bit of skin he touched until her whole body was a mass of sensation. Again her body climbed toward that peak of sheer joy, and this time Giorgio was with her every step of the ecstatic journey they took together. Her eyes flew open, and she drowned in the rolling depths of emotion she saw reflected in his, as they came together in their explosive release.

When her body finally stopped shaking, she could taste the salt of tears in her mouth. Giorgio kissed them off her face, and he released her from her bonds, and pulled her into his embrace. She had to smile at his grumbled, “If this is pretending, then I hate to see what will happen when we do this for real.”

 

Author Bio:

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.

Find Doris on the web here:

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