Out Now – The Story of Jo by Justine Elyot (@sinfulpress @JustineElyot)

The Story of JoI met a man called Emmett, and now I belong to him.

Bestselling UK author, Justine Elyot, is back with her latest erotica novel, The Story of Jo.

Due for release on October 1st 2018 by Sinful Press, The Story of Jo takes us on a whirlwind romance through the eyes of Jo, as she gives in to her submissive side under the loving tutelage of Emmett. But when Emmett’s friend and mentor appears on the scene, Jo has to decide if she’s willing to risk everything she has to become submissive to two masters.

Justine Elyot is the author of On Demand, The Business of Pleasure and Meeting Her Match. Her fiction has been published by Black Lace, Xcite, Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, and Mischief.

*****

Blurb:

Twenty-something Jo meets Emmett on a team-building course, and her initial disdain for him soon turns into attraction.

With Emmett’s strong but loving hand to guide her, Jo unleashes her inner submissive and they embark on an intense voyage of sexual discovery.

Their mutual fascination sees them exploring bondage, spanking, toys and more, and their romance is as perfect as Jo could hope for, until another man appears on the scene.

She knows that Emmett hero-worships his former boss and mentor, Charles, but when she finds out that Charles is the man who introduced Emmett to the art of domination, she has no idea how to feel.

With fierce desire growing between the three of them, can they find a way to explore this new dynamic without destroying what they already have?

*****

Excerpt:

“I want complete control of you in the bedroom,” he said.

The words shocked me to the core, and when I say ‘core’ I mean the area between my legs.

“Complete…control,” I repeated breathily.

“Within limits,” he amended. “Nothing that will damage or traumatise you, obviously. It’s for your pleasure as much as mine.” He laughed softly and ran a fingertip along my lips. “The look on your face…I’d like to photograph it.”

“Are you talking about, y’know, kinky stuff?”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You look shocked. Are you shocked?”

Was I?

“No,” I said. “I mean…no.”

“So you are that way inclined?” He raised an eyebrow.

“In theory,” I said. “I’ve read…things. But never done…things.”

“But you’d like to do…things?”

Could I admit that I’d dreamed of a man like Emmett, who would come and take possession of my body and my sexuality, relieving me of the irksome responsibility? I’d dreamed of a man who would be dominant yet sensitive, cruel but loving, with a resolutely filthy imagination.

Did he actually exist?

And did I have the courage to find out?

He pulled me in close again.

“Do you want me to take you in hand?” he asked, his voice low and sticky in my ear.

“God, yes,” I shivered.

“Mmm,” his appreciative response turned into a kiss, one of those long, slow, trembly types that only end when your legs start to give way. One hand slid slowly down my spine, moulding itself to the curve of my bottom and squeezing.

“You’re still dressed,” he accused, his mouth still close enough for his hot breath to whisper over my skin. Red wine, spearmint, salmon, a bitter coffee note further back.

“Sorry.”

He quieted me with another kiss, then set his fingers to work on my shirt.

The Story of Jo is available to buy from all major online retailers including:

Amazon: http://smarturl.it/TSoJKindle

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-story-of-jo

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/the-story-of-jo/id1420094618?mt=11

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-story-of-jo-justine-elyot/1128642055?ean=9781910908303

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

 

 

Mid Week Tease: The sinful lips she’d been so admiring twisted into a grin… #bdsm #bbw #rubenesque #mfm #menage

mid-week-tease-buttonHi everyone,

Welcome back to Mid Week Tease! This week I’m sharing another snippet from my first-ever novel, Stately Pleasures, which has recently been re-released. I hope you enjoy it.

Stately PleasuresJeremy sat behind a desk, with a heavily pregnant woman sitting beside it. Alice barely noticed the woman. All she saw was him. A man with cropped dark brown hair, hazel/green eyes, a jawline you could cut bread with, and lips that looked capable of doing incredibly wicked, sexual things to a woman. Or a man. Alice had no idea what his sexuality was, but she found herself hoping he liked women.

She chastised herself. Even if he did like women, he wouldn’t go for someone like her. A Plain Jane, with mousy brown shoulder-length hair, blue eyes, average height and above average weight. Alice had always known she’d never be a supermodel, so she’d worked extra hard academically, and here she was. About to be interviewed for her dream job.

The sinful lips she’d been so admiring twisted into a grin, and Davenport stood and made his way around the desk with his hand held out. She pushed her inappropriate thoughts to the back of her mind and made herself focus on the present, and the two people in the room that she had to try her best to impress. Her smile was still in place, and it widened as she took the hand that was offered to her, and shook it.

“Jeremy Davenport,” he said, the posh accent even more obvious now. He indicated the pregnant woman, and said, “This is Erin Clarke, our property manager, who’s due to go on maternity leave very soon.” He let out a small laugh. “But I guess you’ve already worked that one out for yourself.”

“Alice Brown. Thank you so much for seeing me.” She nodded politely, then moved over to the woman, who was awkwardly attempting to manoeuvre herself out of her chair. “No, no, don’t get up,” Alice said, holding out her hand. The other woman sank back down with a sigh of relief, and gave Alice a wry grin.

“Sorry, I’m not so light on my feet as I once was.” She took Alice’s hand and shook it, then dropped her hand to her swollen belly. “It’s lovely to meet you, Alice.”

“Likewise.”

Davenport indicated the chair that had been placed in front of the desk. “Please, sit. Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee, hot chocolate, juice, water?”

She thought how strange it was to be offered such a variety of beverages. Usually it was tea or coffee, and that was pretty much it. It pissed Alice off no end because she didn’t like either of them, and she usually felt like a nuisance for asking for something else. She decided to make the most of it.

“Um, juice would be great, thanks.” She crossed her fingers it wasn’t grapefruit. Anything but bloody grapefruit. Horrible stuff.

Grab your copy now: https://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/stately-pleasures/

Don’t forget to check out all the other blogs taking part!

Mid Week Tease: …good God, he’s hot. #bdsm #bbw #rubenesque #mfm #menage

mid-week-tease-buttonHi everyone,

Welcome back to Mid Week Tease! As promised, I’m switching to something different now. My first-ever novel, Stately Pleasures, has been reworked and re-covered, and is re-releasing tomorrow! I’m thrilled to have my firstborn out there once more, and I hope you’ll check it out. It’s a MFM BDSM erotic romance.

Stately PleasuresAlice took a deep breath, in through her nose, and out through her mouth. Repeated the process once more. Then, realising she could sit there all day doing it and not feel any calmer, she forced herself to step out of the car and close and lock the door.

She bent to peer into the wing mirror of the vehicle and checked her hair and make-up. Satisfied, she straightened, then turned on her heel and walked quickly across the driveway to the great house before her nerve failed her.

Davenport Manor was currently open for visitors, so she walked in through the front door and was met by a smiling elderly lady.
“Can I help you?” the woman asked kindly.

“Yes, please.” Alice twisted her hands together nervously. “I’m here to see Mr Davenport. I’m here for an interview for the property manager’s role.”

“Yes, of course,” the woman replied, “that’s today, isn’t it? Follow me; I’ll take you to Mr Davenport’s office. But just hang on one second.”

She ducked through the doorway into the next room and spoke with her colleague. Alice guessed she was letting her co-worker know she’d be gone for a few minutes. A few seconds later, she was back. “Okay, follow me, Miss…”

“Brown,” Alice said, then fell in behind the other woman as she led her to Mr Davenport’s office, and the interview that could change her life forever. It was hardly surprising that she was shaking like a leaf.

Alice quickly became disorientated as their journey took several twists and turns along dim corridors—their blinds drawn to protect paintings, tapestries, and furniture from the sunlight—and up a flight of stairs. She had a few seconds to worry about finding her way if she was lucky enough to get the job, then her guide stopped outside a door and turned around.

“Here you go, Miss Brown. Mr Davenport’s office. Good luck with your interview.”

Alice smiled and thanked the elderly woman, then smoothed down her skirt, which also conveniently wiped the nervous sweat off her hands. She stood up straight, gave herself a mental pep talk about being more than qualified for the role, and knocked on the door.

“Enter.”

Alice knew that voice could only belong to Jeremy Davenport. The posh accent, and the fact he’d said “enter” instead of “come in”, screamed money and an upper-class upbringing. Alice was suddenly desperately aware of her broad Midlands accent and lowly background, despite the fact she’d worked her backside off to get into a decent university in order to gain a Bachelor of Arts degree and then a Master’s degree. No matter what she sounded like, or what her past was, she had all the skills necessary to do the job she was about to be interviewed for.

She realised she’d left rather a long pause before opening the door, and turned the handle before the occupants of the room thought they were about to interview some kind of simpleton who couldn’t follow a simple instruction.

Fixing a polite—but hopefully not inane—smile onto her face, Alice stepped into Jeremy Davenport’s office. Her first thought—which certainly did nothing to help her nerves—was good God, he’s hot.

Grab your copy now: https://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/stately-pleasures/

Don’t forget to check out all the other blogs taking part!

The Voyeur – Unlucky 13? A Guest Post by Kay Jaybee (@kay_jaybee @sinfulpress)

Many thanks for letting me visit your blog today to share a little of my physiological erotic ménage novel, The Voyeur. Newly, rereleased by Sinful Press, The Voyeur, is a dark, twisting, love story- but just who is in love with whom?

Wealthy businessman 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…

***

There is something about the number 13. Unlucky for some- but not for me. To me it’s always been a very lucky number. I was born on the thirteenth of the month; as were many other members of my family. If asked to pick a number at random; it will always be number 13. Far from being cursed, I’ve had a pretty charmed life; although the road has been undeniably rocky from time to time! For others however, 13 will always carry a darker side.

For Anya (PA) and Clara (Housekeeper), the employees of dedicated voyeur and business man ,Mark Parker, the number 13 means only one thing- the final fantasy on a list of ever more demanding erotic challenges.

Chapter One of The Voyeur dives straight into the action, describing the two-pronged, ultra BDSM fantasy, “number 12.”

Extract

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…

Both Anya and Clara begin to see the end of their six month long sexual adventure in sight- but then Mark announces that, before they can discover the contents of the ultimate challenge- Fantasy 13- they will have to re-enact some of the earlier tasks all over again.

If you’d like to discover how Anya and Clara came to work for Mark in the first place, and what other challenges they choose to endure, 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

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 – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Kay-Jaybee/e/B004O0S9GO/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1534155776&sr=1-1

Twitter- https://twitter.com/kay_jaybee

Facebook –http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3541958-kay-jaybee

Brit Babes Site- http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk/p/kay-jaybee.html

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

Stately Pleasures Revamped! #menage #bdsm #eroticromance #BBW (@thestudioenp)

Hi lovelies,

I’m delighted to announce that my firstborn novel, Stately Pleasures, will shortly be back on the market! It’s been away for a little while, and I’ve been working to get it re-edited, revamped and re-covered. The fabulous Emmy at Studioenp has done me yet another corker of a cover… what do you think?

Stately Pleasures

For those of you who don’t know, this is a BDSM menage romance with a Rubenesque/curvy heroine. Here’s more about the book:

There are worse things a girl can do to get a boost up the career ladder.

Alice Brown has just landed her dream job as property manager at Davenport Manor, a British stately home. It’s only a nine-month contract to cover maternity leave, but it will provide her with the vital experience she needs to progress in her chosen career.

However, her dream job soon threatens to become a nightmare when she discovers her boss, Jeremy Davenport, in a compromising position. Her shock is exacerbated when Jeremy, far from being embarrassed or apologetic about what happened, manipulates the situation until somehow, she’s the one in the wrong. He and his best friend, Ethan Hayes, the head of security at Davenport Manor, give her an ultimatum. Faced with the possibility of losing her job and endangering her future prospects, Alice reluctantly agrees to their indecent proposal.

When the dust settles, Alice comes to the conclusion that playing their kinky games isn’t such a bad thing, after all. But what happens when she thinks she’s falling for both men?

Pre-order links here (sadly not Amazon – links will available closer the time): https://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/stately-pleasures/

Happy Reading,

Lucy x

Don’t Let Go (Darkest Desires #1) by Lynn Burke (@AuthorLynnBurke) #BDSM #MayDecember #EroticRomance #FemDom

Don't Let GoBlurb:

Troy Jenner’s ex called his desire to be dominated sick. Divorced, shamed, and stripped bare of his assets, Troy is gifted a three day pass to Monique’s, Baltimore’s elite sex club. He hopes to discover the depths of his desires, not fall for the Domme with a turbulent past in her eyes.

Barista by day, Mistress by night, Jaycie Atkins is the Domme assigned to fulfill submissive’s fantasies of pain with pleasure. To conquer her childhood trauma, she learned to be powerful and prudent. Always giving, never receiving. Always in control — until Troy’s grateful groans after every whip of her flogger threaten to slip past her Domme defenses. The warmth in his eyes tempting her to trust him like no other.

Will Troy’s patience and persistence in breaking down her walls pay off, or will he be forced to accept the fact Mistress will never let go and give him the collar and second chance at love he longs for?

PURCHASE LINKS:
Changeling Press: https://www.changelingpress.com/don-t-let-go-darkest-desires-1-b-2751
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Dont-Let-Darkest-Desires-Book-ebook/dp/B07FN99TMP
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Dont-Let-Darkest-Desires-Book-ebook/dp/B07FN99TMP
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dont-let-go-lynn-burke/1129107928
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/don-t-let-go-34
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/dont-let-go/id1413868467

*****

EXCERPT:

I knelt in the middle of the dungeon-like room as I’d seen on the countless BDSM websites I’d been studying the past month, exactly like they’d shown us new subs at the introduction class the evening before. Butt naked, dick already at half-mast because I finally had the chance to explore the darkness inside of me that had killed my ten-year marriage.

As CEO of a prominent software company, I took pride in my self-control and stoic nature. Being a bastard had gotten me up the rung to where I sat comfortably behind a glass desk with windows overlooking Baltimore’s skyline. It had also earned me a nasty divorce a year earlier when my ex-wife took over half of what we owned, leaving me with a broken heart and near-empty bank accounts. At least a constant work load since then had gotten me closer to where I’d been before she’d attempted to wipe me out.

I studied my hands resting on my bare thighs. Springy hair tickled my palms. While the hair on my body remained a dark blond, the previous two years of hell had shot gray through the thick strands on my head and the scruff I couldn’t keep from lining my jaw.

Forty-three and already fucking gray. Wouldn’t help my chance at dating — if I ever got the balls to put myself out there again. I’d been celibate for over a year. Dead inside, unable to give two shits about anything but work, unable to get it up, too. I also didn’t have the energy to get involved, let alone think of dating.

Familiar exhaustion tugged on my eyelids, and I let them close while waiting for the Domme the club’s owner had booked me with for the night — Mistress Jaycie. A woman I’d never met, a woman I was going to let control me in whatever way she wanted.

Time to give over. Time to explore my lust for pain and hopefully float into that mysterious subspace I’d been reading about.

My dick twitched at the thought of pure, empty-headed euphoria.

Would the Domme I’d been paired with have a heavy hand? Would she be beautiful? Did I even care? I just wanted — craved — submission, the type that would erase the shit in my mind for a while and maybe get my rocks off.

My ex had been vanilla, same as I’d always been, and when I got the urge to introduce something new in the bedroom, she’d looked at me with disgust. Hell, I’d only suggested handcuffs and ropes, hoping she’d agree so we could eventually move on to what I really wanted.

No such fucking luck.

I breathed deep and exhaled my thoughts along with the lungful of used-up air. The silence coating the dim, private scening room at Monique’s club in downtown Baltimore soothed me. Even if it turned out the BDSM lifestyle wasn’t for me, I’d at least have gotten to experience a semi-hard dick again.

A click sounded as the door opened, and I kept my head and gaze lowered as I’d been instructed in the class. Awareness crept over my skin like an electrical charge as heels clicked on hardwood. My heartbeat accelerated. The subtle scent of oranges hit my nose as black leather stiletto boots came into my line of sight.

Hot as fuck. I bit back my groan as my cock thickened. I swallowed against sudden nervousness, something I hadn’t experienced since my teenage years.

“Hmm…” she murmured. The boots rounded to my left, disappearing in my periphery. “On your feet, slave.” Her low, husky voice prickled my skin, bringing my dick to full attention.

I rose with as much grace as I could, hands at my sides, erection sticking up close to my navel.

A soft inhale tickled my ears as I straightened completely.

I knew what she saw — what she probably didn’t expect for a man teetering on the brink of the downslope from his prime. Daily yoga, running, and weight training kept my body looking the same as it had at twenty-five.

Something tailed down my backbone and across the top of my ass cheeks, lacking the warmth of skin. Crop? Cane? The urge to know made me want to shift my stance, but I held still.

She rounded to the right and stopped in front of me.

From my height, most of her body came into view even though I kept my head lowered. The black leather of her boots hugged defined calves, stopping just above her knees. A good twelve inches of smooth, pale skin gave way to a tight leather skirt — also black — over flared hips, ending at her tiny waist. She held a crop in her right hand.

My dick actually jumped, bumping my abs.

I glanced up through my lashes, filling my eyes with the corset-cinched tits threatening to spill over the top. The milky-white globes set my mouth to watering.

“You will call me Mistress.”

© Lynn Burke 2018

*****

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.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/
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