Rock Your Soul by Sara Brookes

Rock Your SoulBook Blurb:

Beth has been scarred both inside and out by a sadistic Dom and has worked hard to put the pieces of her life back together. However, the successful disc jockey knows one piece doesn’t quite align. She yearns to submit and searches for the one Dom she’s convinced will help bring her to lusty new heights.

When Ryan agrees to assist Beth, he’s surprised by her determination to persevere. Intrigued, he pushes her limits by using his gifted carpenter’s hands to bring her wild, erotic pleasure. Ryan, though, has scars of his own, and a tragic past filled with death keeps him at a distance.

Two broken souls will find a way to heal together. Beth discovers what she needs in Ryan, and her journey mends Ryan’s heart. But when the life Beth abandoned rises from the shadows, Ryan realizes there’s something far worse than his tortuous past—a future without Beth.

Warning: Get your world rocked by two very tortured souls who come together in a blinding explosion of sensual passion that knows no bounds. Except when there are ropes, custom-carved floggers, glass dildos and motorcycle sex involved. Oh, and did I mention the m/f/m ménage scene? One can never have too many skilled men ready to lend a…hand.

 

Book Link:

Ellora’s Cave: http://www.ellorascave.com/rock-your-soul.html

Book Excerpt:

“To your knees.”

She blinked, stunned at the power and command in his voice. As the control washed over her, she wanted to respond, but she found herself too annoyed things weren’t going according to plan. While she’d expected him to ask her questions to find out what he was in store for, she didn’t expect anything of this magnitude.

Angry, she returned his glare.

He smirked. The reaction caused her insides to turn to jelly, her vitriolic thoughts vanishing on the chilly night air. Why did he have to be so goddamned handsome and annoying at the same time?

“I suggest you listen if you want me to consider taking you on as I don’t like repeating myself. To. Your. Knees.”

She opened her mouth to protest and he tilted his head down just enough to give her another message. A very stern one she couldn’t help but listen to. He would not be ignored.

She dropped her hands to her sides and slowly lowered to her knees. The rough rocks immediately bit into her shins, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing him she was in pain. She heard the unmistakable sound of buttons popping on his jeans and looked up just in time to see him part the denim. What in the Sam hell did he intend to do? If he expected her to suck his dick right here and now, he’d better think again.

“Eyes down.”

The authority behind those two words coursed through her, compelling her to obey. It had been a long time since she’d had this kind of reaction. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she complied. The denim pooled around his ankles and she found herself staring at the pile.

Just as she started to wonder if Elena had been out of her mind to recommend this man, his hand slid against the top of her head. His touch was almost calming and, despite her annoyance, a feeling of tranquility washed over her. His fingers combed her hair, catching the elastic holder from her ponytail, pulling it free. He continued to run his fingers through the strands, fanning out her hair. She relaxed under his persistent touch. The pain in her legs melted away and she gave a soft sigh as her body started to quietly buzz.

Yes.

The crunch of rocks jolted her back to the moment. She listened to him move away, leaving her alone on the rock path in front of his house.

What in the hell?

Beth looked to the left and her eyes widened in surprise as she spotted him. He strolled toward the small lake at the front corner of the field, towel swinging in his hand as he walked. Those jeans of his were at her feet and she now had an unobstructed view of his bare ass.

A very firm, very tan, perfectly formed ass.

Christ on a slinky going down an up escalator if he doesn’t look even better out of those jeans. Transfixed by the bunch and pull of the muscles in his thighs and butt as he walked over the uneven ground, she forgot her place and openly gawked.

When he reached the bank at the water’s edge, he dropped the towel and walked right into the lake. She expected him to dive under the surface, but instead he slowly moved until the water lapped as his hips. He sunk as if he were a knife cutting through the water, disappearing with no more than a quiet ripple disturbing the surface. The lake smoothed in seconds.

The only indication she ever had company were those damn jeans on the ground in front of her.

Author Bio:

Sara Brookes is an award-winning author who has always been fascinated by the strange, the unusual, the twisted and the lost (tortured heroes are her personal favorite). She is an action movie junkie, addicted to coffee and has been known to stay up until the wee hours of the morning playing RPG video games. Despite all this, she is a romantic at heart and is always a sucker for an excellent love story. Born and bred in Virginia, Sara still lives there with her husband and daughter. The entire family is owned by two cats, Galahad and Loki, who graciously allow the family to cater to their every desire.

Author Links:

Website: www.sarabrookes.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/Sara_Brookes

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/brookesofbooks

Facebook Author Page: http://www.facebook.com/authorsarabrookes

Announcement List: http://eepurl.com/mbG31

Cowboy Boots and Inexpressible Longing by Natalie Acres

Cowboy Boots and Inexpressible LongingHis pain is far greater than his need for love

Master Drew Remington knows pain. He understands its fury. He has walked through its unrelenting terror and remembers the torment in his brother’s eyes as he lay dying in front of him.

His affliction is too vast to overcome

Oh yes, Master Drew knows heartache. He watched as his father was gunned down by a hired assassin. He understands what it’s like to feel helpless and utterly consumed by a harrowing tragedy that left his family in ruins.

Only one woman can heal his soul and mend his wounded heart

A former lover, Suzy Matthews reenters Master Drew’s life. Suzy is determined to win her Master’s heart, but as she plans to embrace the love she and Master Drew share, an emerging war finally erupts. Soon, Suzy is used as a pawn in a very dangerous game set to unfold between old enemies looking to settle one final score.

Available from: http://www.bookstrand.com/natalie-acres

 

Story Excerpt:

“He’s got her,” Drew said.

“No shit.” Crue’s voice filled his ears. “Gabe and I have clear shots in the guest room. We can take out all but one of his men. Looks like Esparza’s son is standing at his twelve o’clock.”

“Don’t take those shots,” Drew whispered, easing closer to Esparza and Suzy. He couldn’t risk a complication. Suzy’s life was on the line.

“Damn it, Drew. If we don’t take them out, you won’t stand a chance when they scatter,” Gabe snapped.

“Then I won’t stand a chance.” He tucked his weapon at his waist and walked down the hallway with his hands in the air. This was like déjà vu, only worse. Suzy was on the floor. Esparza’s gun was aimed at her head. Damn if he didn’t know how that felt. He’d been there. He’d done that.

Damn man must’ve liked reliving moments in life. As Drew locked gazes with Esparza, he reminded himself of where he’d been, what heartache he’d suffered, all at the hands of a monster.

This despicable devil had been at the root of all his problems. He’d taken away the heart and soul of his family. He’d killed his father and slaughtered his brother. Now, he had his woman!

He’d be damned if he’d let him take one more person he cared about. And he wasn’t about to lose his life to Esparza so another one of his brothers would face off with him in the future.

It was time to end this. The moment had come. It was time to send a devil back to hell.

“What have we here?” Esparza cocked the gun.

“You’ll never get away with this,” Drew told him, glancing at Suzy. “We have the place surrounded.”

“Really?” Esparza threw his head back and laughed. “My property is twenty-five acres and your team—your team of six or seven men—have my place surrounded?”

“Your surveillance must’ve failed you somewhere, Esparza. We’ve pulled divisions from across the country.” Drew crept forward as he spoke. “I don’t foresee any way out of this for you.”

Esparza sneered. “I don’t see any positive outcome for your girl. Do you?”

Drew flinched. “I still can’t figure out why you have her. She’s been in town for two days and you think there’s some sort of lasting connection between us?”

Suzy shot him a quick glance. He wanted to run to her as soon as he implied she wasn’t important to him. He needed to wrap his arms around her and reassure her.

Again, Esparza tossed his head back. “You’re living in Vegas now. Haven’t you learned the laws of the land, yet? You can bluff a skilled player, a player who cares about the end result more than the temporary win. But you cannot—or at least you shouldn’t—bluff a true gambler. These individuals will go all-in without considering the risks.”

“Let her go,” Drew said, still holding his hands high. Manny was behind him now. Drew had worked with him long enough to feel him like a second skin. Scott was positioned at the other end of the hall. There was a little red dot on the side of Esparza’s head.

“Do you remember the time we spent together in Virginia, Drew?” Esparza grinned. “Of course you do. I’m the reason behind that drive you have now. When you rise every morning, I’m the only excuse you have to get out of bed. I’m your inspiration when you pound the pavement for four or five miles every day, and I’m—me, Drew, and no one else—the very reason you’ll never know a peaceful rest when you lay down at night and go to sleep.”

“You’re fucking insane.”

“And I speak the truth,” Esparza said. “We share a history that can never been separated. Don’t you feel it, Drew? I do. We’re linked together by what I now consider a very beautiful past, one wrought with murder and deceit, fraud and manipulation. Death surrounds us. Your father took away my family. I’ve slowly killed off yours. We meet, separate, and reunite again. We are so much a part of one another’s lives now that we’re almost family.”

Esparza yanked Suzy’s head back. “When families play together, darling, they stay together. You understand that. Don’t you?”

 

Copyright © 2013 Natalie Acres

International bestseller Natalie Acres is a Tennessee author writing exclusively for Siren Publishing. Prone to pen Western ménage romance and BDSM romantic thrillers, Natalie Acres enjoys sports, reading, and spending time with her family and friends. When she isn’t writing, Natalie is often found at a dice table in Cherokee, North Carolina, or playing poker in Tunica, Mississippi.

http://natalieacres.wordpress.com

http://www.amazon.com/Natalie-Acres/e/B002T575KC/

https://twitter.com/NatalieAcres

https://www.facebook.com/NatalieAcresAuthor

 

New Release: Girls Getting Off, edited by Elizabeth Coldwell

My story, When in Devon, appears in this erotic anthology, just released by Xcite Books. I had lots of fun writing this saucy tale, and given the rest of the author names in this book, it promises to be an excellent read.

Here’s the blurb:

Enter a sensual, seductive world of lady love

Sometimes, only another woman can give a girl the excitement she craves. In this collection of twenty sensuous lesbian erotic tales, penned by the best erotica authors from around the world you’ll discover women enjoying their first sweet taste of all-girl games, and long-term lovers reawakening their passion with the aid of new tricks and favourite toys. From sweet and tender to rough and kinky, delicious damsels to bi-try babes, there’s something here to satisfy all lovers of girl-on-girl action.

Who wouldn’t want to be there when girls get off?

Buy links here: https://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/girls-getting-off/

*****

Excerpt:

Belle was bored out of her damn mind. She was sitting on a deckchair on Croyde Beach, watching her friends Adrian and Wayne surfing. It had been fun at first, seeing their athletic bodies manoeuvring the boards with skill, riding the waves. And giggling at the occasional fall, of course. They were good, but not perfect.

Now, on the third day of walking from their lush holiday cottage to the beach to watch the surfers, Belle really wished she’d stayed in and taken advantage of the free WiFi. Or even gone into the village pub or cafe. Read a book. Anything but continue to observe the boys on their bloody boards.

She wasn’t even supposed to be there, really. A third guy, Max, was meant to be going, but he’d dropped out for some reason, so the others had asked her if she wanted to come along.

“Come on,” Adrian had said, “there are three bedrooms, all en-suite, so it’ll be private for you. Free WiFi, underfloor heating, the works.”

“Sounds expensive.”

“It is, but not for you. Max has already paid his share, and it was non-refundable. We won’t find another surfer to come at such short notice, so Max will have to take the hit. He’s okay with it. Anyway, you’ve gotta come. You don’t have other plans, do you?” His voice sounded slightly incredulous at that last part, and Belle’s reply was snippy.

“No, I don’t. But there’s no need to be mean about it.”

“Sorry, babe. I didn’t mean it like that. How about I make it up to you? A free week away do you? All you need is spending money.”

“No petrol money? Are we teleporting there?”

“Hey, who’s being mean now? Anyway, no you don’t. I invited you, and I wouldn’t expect you to pay for petrol. Come on…” He wheedled and cajoled.

Belle gave in. She’d only really been being stubborn because of the comment about her not having anything else to do. Inwardly, she’d jumped at the chance of a free holiday, but she’d remained cool on the outside.

Now, though, she wished she’d remained cool through and through, or that her boss had refused to give her the time off. Yes, it had been nice to see what her two best friends did every time they tore off to the Devon or Cornwall coast, but now she’d had her fill.

It wasn’t all bad, though. The weather was gorgeous, especially for early November, and there was hardly anyone around. She imagined the place would be heaving in the summer, but now there were just a handful of surfers, the occasional dog walker and a few hikers.

The hikers gave her an idea. She could go for a walk. Take in a bit more of the scenery, something different from the section of beach she’d been staring at for three days straight. Yes, that’s what she’d do. Rummaging in the bag she’d brought with her, she found an old receipt and a pen.

Gone for a walk. Got my mobile if you need me. Belle xxx

 

Buy links here: https://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/girls-getting-off/

Gracefully Aroused: The Best of K D Grace

The Best of K D GraceFrom a love spell that doesn’t quite go to plan to a farmhand who needs a little discipline; from a woman who is addicted to the confessional to a personal trainer with a very unorthodox method of guaranteeing his clients they’ll look fab come bikini season, K D Grace will tell you a naughty story with a twist. Before there was Ms Holly and the Pet Shop, before there were sexy ghosts, before Grace Marshall upped the romance ante, K D Grace was into quickies, and here’s a selection of her naughtiest.

Hired Hand
Pretty city boy, Tim Harris, is the last man Suzie Sheridan would have hired to help her on the farm had he not been the only one who applied for the job. But with strict discipline generously applied in all the right places, even Suzie is amazed at just how good a hired hand Tim turns out to be …

Personal Trainer
Penny Davis can’t afford to hire a personal trainer to get her fit for bikini season until ex-military hard man, Hawk Sturgis, offers her an unorthodox fitness regimen and an even more unorthodox payment plan, guaranteed to have her heating up the beach in her new bikini just in time for the summer hols.

Accidental Hitchhiker
On a road trip across America, Liz Martin’s car breaks down in the middle of nowhere South Dakota, and the ride a Good Samaritan lorry driver offers her is not exactly the one she expected.

Productivity
Under the careful supervision of his unorthodox management consultant, a stressed company CEO learns a hands-on technique guaranteed to up productivity.

Flaws
Love spells are the most dangerous kind of magic. Mick Denver learns the hard way when he enlists Sally Haddon, a witch who specialises in sex magic, to help him win the affections of his new co-worker, the exquisite and dangerous Darlene.

Hard Times at the Nymphomaniac Rehabilitation Facility
Sadie’s sexual appetite is out of control, and a spell at the Nymphomaniac Rehabilitation Facility is intended to put it right. It isn’t long before fellow inmate Carol is showing her how to bend the facility’s strict rules, earning them both punishments that are more than worth the crime.

Confessions
Confession is good for the soul, but Hail Marys and Our Fathers aren’t nearly enough to gain absolution when Jilly confesses to an unsuspecting priest that confession makes her come.

Excavations
While volunteering on an archaeological dig, Gina and Mike discover new and exciting ways to help their workaholic professor relieve stress – and he introduces them to one or two methods of his own, which are far from academic.

Seeing Red
We all give off body heat, but only Jenny can see the red glow it gives off, darker and more intense the more turned on we become. When she’s compelled to follow a fellow bus passenger whose scarlet desires are too powerful to ignore, she learns the real secret of her unique vision.

Pheromones
An unusually powerful sense of smell gives Chloe the ability to sniff out the scents of people in lust. When she volunteers for a research trial into pheromones, she doesn’t realise the scientist in charge will have the perfect, sexy aroma she’s always craved in a lover.

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Xcite Books

Coming soon to all other good eBook retailers.

 

Hired Hand

It irritated Suzie the way Tim Harris worked without a shirt, like he didn’t know how distracting that was. She watched him muck out the barn, grunting slightly with each thrust of the pitch fork, breathing heavily from the effort. If she closed her eyes she could easily imagine him doing something else. To her.

She dragged her gaze away from the hard play of muscles, muscles that, no doubt, came from some cushy air conditioned gym, which is probably where he got his tan.

Working bare-chested might cool him down a bit, but it only made her hotter. She had nearly forgotten the clit-stiffening scent of sweaty maleness, earthy and slightly piquant, a scent that, amid the barnyard animal smells, caused her own animal nature to squirm and stretch and sniff.

He was too damn good looking to be a real hired hand. From Chicago, he said, by way of London – in England! He arrived complete with an accent that never failed to make her tits tight. Rural Missouri was a long way from London. What would a pretty city boy know about farming? He would have been the last man she would have hired had he not been the only one who applied for the job.

‘Let me see your hands,’ she commanded.

He jumped and nearly dropped the pitch fork. ‘I didn’t hear you come in, Suzie.’

She tried to keep her eyes on his and not the muscles of his belly, tensing and relaxing into his low-slung jeans that always seemed to be hiding something just barely contained, something she hadn’t stopped thinking about since he arrived at Sheridan Farm.

He removed his gloves and held his hands out, palms up for her inspection, offering her a warm smile. ‘Blisters are healed. I’m starting to get callouses.’

‘About damn time. I’m not paying you to be an invalid.’ She couldn’t help herself; she gave his palms an open-handed stroke, thinking how good those callouses would feel against more sensitive parts of her body.

As she did so, he dropped a glove. She stooped to pick it up, closer to his groin than she intended, close enough to notice his package was straining his Levis this morning. The tangy, male rutting smell made her mouth water. Suddenly the sweat between her breasts wasn’t the only moisture she was feeling. She fought back the urge to jerk open his fly and bury her face against his bulge, reminding herself she hadn’t earned the respect of the other farmers without discipline and self-control.

After her father’s death, she kept the family farm working against all odds, and she wasn’t going to let some city boy’s bulging jeans slow her down. She stood quickly and handed back his glove.

‘I’m going into town to get the seed corn. You can drive a tractor, right?’

‘I can drive anything you need me to drive,’ he replied.

She assumed that meant he didn’t know a standard transmission from a pogo stick. But when the time came Tim was as good as his word. Ike Melbourne had offered her the use of his tractor for the day, since his son was getting married. While Tim ploughed the field behind the barn she used Ike’s tractor to plant the south 40. It was supposed to rain on Wednesday. With the extra tractor hopefully they’d be done before the weather hit.

She planned to plant into the night, breaking long enough to tend livestock before dark. She hurried about feeding the chickens and the pigs, hearing the steady purr of Tim’s tractor in the field behind the barn. She was checking the water tank in the pig pen when she noticed the silence.

Wiping her hands on her jeans, she walked around the side of the barn. Beyond the stand of oak and elm just on the other side of the fence the tractor stood empty and silent.

*****

K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband recently walked the Coast to Coast rout across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.

K D has erotica published with Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms HollyThe Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel,Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive DecisionIdentity Crisis, books one and two of her Executive Decisions Trilogy are now available.

Links:

http://kdgrace.co.uk

http://www.twitter.com/kd_grace

http://www.facebook.com/kdgraceauthor

Inventing Herself by Sommer Marsden

Inventing HerselfSophie Calhoun has a good job writing for a hot women’s magazine. Her latest assignment is to do an article about how a strong, confident woman can look deeper into herself to find her centre. The only problem is Sophie feels lost. On a whim one morning, looking for the answers to her unwritten article and the silent turmoil in her heart, she takes a hike. In the wilderness she finds a very large man sitting alone, calm and still and smiling – everything Sophie wants to be. When he opens his eyes and that smile is directed at her, Sophie begins to find herself…

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US

*****

Excerpt:

‘Now we move into downward dog.’ Joel’s rich caramel voice smoothed over Sophie.

If only she could feel gooey and bendy like caramel. Instead, she felt awkward and clumsy. She pushed back with the heels of her hands as she’d been instructed. Tried to “sink” into the stretch with the heels of her feet.

All she could think was what if I slip? What does my ass look like? And, of course, who farted?

Turned out that wasn’t so much of a myth. Someone had let one go and everyone was acting as if it was no big deal at all.

Which, technically, it wasn’t. It was just a fart, after all. Everyone had gas at some point in their lif –

‘You’re drifting,’ Joel said, his voice very close to her. So close it made Sophie go rigid. ‘Let me help you straighten your pose.’

He stepped up between her spread legs and settled his hands on her hips. Then he proceeded to move her a little here, a little there, until the stretch blazed up her calves and the backs of her hamstrings. It blazed somewhere else too, Sophie noticed as he lingered, tweaking her pose.

When he stepped back from between her legs, his hand stayed on her lower back for a beat before being removed. ‘Good,’ Joel said.
He was big and tall and obviously fit. A shock of dark – almost black – hair and grey eyes. His voice was as smoky and sensual as his body.

Sophie felt colour come to her face that had nothing to do with yoga or being inverted. The class lowered slowly to a plank pose and her muscles started to tremble. In her mind’s eye it was easy to put a face to it now. This man, down between her legs, his mouth on her. His fingers separating and skating over her nether lips. Finding her slick opening and plunging deep, curling to tease her G-spot until she gasped. Then taking her own juices, running up to find the needy swell of her clitoris. Circling and circling until plunging back into her cunt to stroke her most secret places again, his mouth sucking, his tongue nudging, licking, licking, licking until …

‘Now lower down into cobra pose,’ Joel said.

Sophie did, but as she did a noise burst out of her. Her body, on the verge actually coming, supplied the small blip and flutter deep inside of an almost orgasm. The sound was half sigh, half moan, and very, very sultry. Way too sultry for muscle stretching.

Joel chuckled softly. ‘Glad to know you’re enjoying class, Sophie. We’re glad to have you.’

She counted the heartbeats until class was over, she was so mortified. When Joel finally told them to stand and everyone gave what seemed to be the customary “Namaste” a woman in green leggings and a bright blue pullover whispered, ‘Don’t feel so bad. He has that effect on most of the newcomers. Once he touches someone … they’re toast.’

Sophie tried to smile and waited to self-combust.

She nearly set a record changing back into her work clothes, but when she came out Joel called out to her.

‘I was wondering –’ he said, sort of grinning at her.

Sophie caught the gaze of the green-legging woman. She was smiling, her look knowing.

‘Could I … call you? Take you out? Bring you wine and woo you with wild yoga tales?’ He smiled at her and the lust that smile inspired struck right down through the centre of her like a lightning bolt.

‘Um, yeah … sure. In fact –’ She broke off, thinking maybe she shouldn’t say what she was about to say. But fuck it. This whole “finding her centre” thing had taken her very close to thinking she was nuts. Might as well act nuts, right? Maybe Joel was that missing something. ‘How about you come to my place tonight. Bring that wine you mentioned and I can make a nice steak or – wait – do you eat meat?’

He nodded, eyes flashing with amusement. ‘I do. But thank you for asking.’

‘Good,’ she hurried on. Yes, this was it. This was a good thing. Maybe she was just in need of a date. Maybe she was just horny. ‘And maybe a salad and whatever. We can just … we can talk. Get to know one another.’

‘It’s a date,’ he said. He gave her his number so she could text her address.

‘Yes. It is a date,’ she said and hurried out of the studio. Kate was going to kill her!

*****

Bio:

Sommer Marsden’s been called “…one of the top storytellers in the erotica genre” (Violet Blue), “Unapologetic” (Alison Tyler), “…the whirling dervish of erotica” (Craig J. Sorensen), and “Erotica royalty…” (Lucy Felthouse).

Her erotic novels include Restless Spirit, Boys Next Door, Big Bad, Learning to Drown, Wanderlust and the Zombie Exterminator series. Sommer currently writes erotica and erotic romance for Xcite Books, eXcessica, Ellora’s Cave, Pretty Things Press, Resplendence Publishing and Mischief Books. The wine-swigging, dachshund-owning, wannabe runner author writes work that runs the gamut from bondage to zombies to humor.

Sommer’s short works can be found in well over one hundred (and counting) erotic anthologies. Her short stories have also been included numerous adult and romance magazines–both in print and online.

New Release: Smut by the Sea Volume 2

Hurrah! I’m delighted to announce that Smut by the Sea Volume 2, edited by myself and Victoria Blisse, is now available. Here’s the skinny:

Light hearted, sexy fun by the sea is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From the sun soaked beaches of Brazil to the altogether cooler coastal towns of England, Smut by the Sea Volume 2 has it all. Whatever your interpretation of naughty seaside fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Amusement arcades, beach houses, mermaids, honeymooners, shipwrecks, sex toys and more abound in this exciting collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Contains stories from Victoria Blisse, Tilly Hunter, Rachel Randall, Giselle Renarde, Tamsin Flowers, Lucy Felthouse, Kate Britton, Jillian Boyd, Bel Anderson, Cass Peterson, Delyth Angharad, T C Mill, Erzabet Bishop, Tenille Brown and Annabeth Leong.

And here’s an excerpt from my story, On the Big Wheel:

Brigit loved the seaside. She always had, probably because visiting it was a rarity. Living in the centre of England meant that even the nearest seaside town was over an hour and a half away—and the nice resorts even further.

Which was why her boyfriend, Allen, proposed a long weekend in Brighton. He knew how fond she was of the seaside. Unsurprisingly, she agreed delightedly.

“It’s a long way,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter. We’d never go anywhere if we lamented the length of the journey.”

As it happened, the travelling wasn’t too bad. Miraculously the M1 was clear all the way down to the M25—and even that notorious motorway wasn’t experiencing its usual havoc. A straight shot south on the M23, then the A23 took them towards Brighton, and they navigated the one-way systems and lack of road signs and—eventually—found their hotel.

“Wow,” Brigit said, stretching luxuriously after getting out of the car, “that didn’t take as long as I thought. Shall we check in, dump our bags and go and explore?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Allen replied with a grin.

They slammed their respective car doors, grabbed the bags from the boot and headed into the hotel. Fifteen minutes later, after using the toilet and freshening up, they were back outside.

“Nice choice of hotel, babe. I like it.” Brigit said.

“I’m glad. I researched it well,” Allen replied.

“The bed looks nice and comfy.”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll be able to give it a decent road test later.” He winked at her, and got a slap on the arm for his trouble.

“You’ve got a one-track mind, you have.”

“Well, what do you expect when I’ve got a girlfriend that looks like you?”

She giggled. “Charmer.”

“That’s me. Okay, now I’m back in good books,” Allen said, “what do you want to do? Now, I mean. Not at bedtime.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Brigit stuck her tongue out at him before replying. “I dunno. Just look around I guess. Get our bearings. See what there is to do around here.”

They walked hand-in-hand towards the seafront, then along it in the direction of the pier. They passed the burnt out shell of the West Pier, and Brigit wondered aloud whether it would ever be rebuilt or demolished. Or would the blackened skeleton be left there forevermore, a reminder of what once was.

Soon, they drew close to Brighton Pier. Brigit turned to Allen with a grin.

“What?” he said, then followed her almost manic gaze down the length of the pier, towards a building with fake turret-type things and some very real flags. He sighed. He couldn’t be sure from here, but he thought it was bound to be the amusement arcade. “Oh, you want to go in there, do you? I wonder why?” His voice was laden with sarcasm in his last sentence.

“You know damn well why. Come on!” Brigit tugged him along the last few metres of the pavement and onto the wooden slats of the pier. “Ooh, we can have fish and chips when we come out, if you want.”

Here’s more info and the buy links: https://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/smut-by-the-sea-volume-2/