Winner of Repo Chick Blues Download
Email me at tm-sharp@hotmail.com to let me know an email addy to send it to :)
Thanks to everyone who commented today. I had a great time!
Take care, all!
Welcome to the erotic world of Liquid Silver Books. From sexy vampires, bad-ass heroines, and seductive aliens to the passionate heart of a Regency or the titillating worlds of the future, Liquid Silver Books presents stimulating characters and the impassioned authors who create them. *Please note, this blog contains adult material. Restricted to 18 years of age and older.*
Zodiac: Pisces available now!
Sherrill Quinn
Romance With An Edge Website | Blog
Indulge Authors - Website | Blog
In the spirit of my new book, I offer a recipe.
From the official United States Senate website, here is the recipe for Senate Bean Soup, served in the Senate cafeteria every day since 1903:
The Famous Senate Restaurant Bean Soup Recipe
four quarts hot water
1 1/2 pounds smoked ham hocks
1 onion, chopped
2 tablespoons butter
salt and pepper to taste
Now, for those of you who don’t have three hours to stand over a covered pot, I adapted it for my crockpot. Takes a little more time up front, but you could do the prep work anytime.
2 quarts hot water
1 ½ pounds smoked ham hocks
1 onion, chopped
2 tablespoons butter
Salt and pepper to taste
It’s the same with the women. I like curvy women, I like strong women. Katharine Hepburn and Rita Hayworth are my favorites from film, and now I adore Lucy Lawless. And again it’s the fearless factor. Yes, she’s built like a brick outhouse. But she can do drama, comedy, angst and everything in between with grace and style and a joy that just comes through in her work.
So, here I am for my first day of blogging for Liquid Silver. For those of you who don't know me (which is pretty much everyone!), I'm Philippa Grey-Gerou, a new writer with Liquid Silver. You can just call me Grey. I'll be doing a couple of different things today, including a rant and a recipe, but I've tweaked my plan a little bit as I just found out that my first book with LSB, The Halls of Power, is coming out next week, so I'm going to be doing this *again* come March 7th! So you'll have to wait until then for the excerpts and goodies. It'll be worth the wait, I promise!
I’m really pretty excited about joining the blog team here. Hard to believe that it wasn’t that long ago I was listening to an article on NPR about the rise of these new “weblogs” and thinking how self-important these people must be to think anyone would care enough about them to read their private journal online. Little did I realize that the following year I’d be getting my own. And two years after that I’d pay good money to make it a permanent one.
Crow doesn’t taste too bad, if you use enough salt.
I really like blogging. Each one is different. I have two of my own, my private one and then my author one, plus playing here at Sex and a couple of other places. I love being able to mention that my dishwasher broke down and have two people who I have never met come together to get me a used one in good condition that I never would have found otherwise. I love getting to share experiences, like TV shows or movies or games. I like having a place to occasionally rant. Cuz I can get a rant on like nobody’s business. I like being able to tell everyone who cares to look how much certain people mean to me. I like being able to ask a question and get a whole bunch of answers in no time for stuff that I couldn’t find on the internet. ::kicks Google:: And like I said, it’s different for everyone. For some people, it’s a substitute for their pen and paper journal where they put their innermost thoughts. For some it’s a forum to discuss politics or religion or fandom or whatever rocks their socks. For some it’s a game. And it’s all good.
So, how about you? If you’re here, you obviously aren’t a newbie to the blogging community. What’s your favorite thing to do or see in someone’s journal? What drives you the most crazy? What kind of things just make you go “Huh?”
The bdsm lifestyle is something that intrigues many of us. Sometimes we may write hot and heavy bdsm-themed stories without truly understanding what the lifestyle entails. We're curious observers, not actual participants. I recently gathered some information on what it is to actually live the life--not just play in the bedroom. The following is a Q&A session with a practicing submissive, explaining what the BDSM life means to her.
What happens when you’re in an argument and you’re confident you’re right about something and really want to be heard?
Argument... that implies anger, temper or ire, to me. i don't like having discussions or debates when i'm angry, because then feelings can be hurt, or something can be said that isn't meant. If either of U/us does get angry about something, W/we wait to talk about it, until W/we're calm and level-headed. Submission doesn't mean i checked my brain and opinions at the door, LOL. And i try to be respectful when i'm voicing my opinions.
Also when with Him in the car(or any other place He deems it appropriate), my bare ass is on the seat, and my legs are spread for Him.
At home(His, but it feels like home to me too now), when i get in, unless otherwise directed, i get undressed, and assume my position(on my knees, with them spread, my ankles crossed behind me, back straight, eyes forward, my hands clasped behind me).i must always wear my cuff(it's black, leather, with a kitty face on it and pat prints... Bought at Hot Topic, LOL, but it's comfy and nice), unless i take it off to keep it from getting wet or lotiony, or for medical reasons, like a nurse needs to take my pulse or something.
i must keep a daily submissive journal. And have a very good reason if i miss a day. i must also write down any disobedience and the punishment, if i know the latter. Or put punishment pending, if i don't. Additions to this rule: i must put another "i am" sentence at the end of every day.Abby started to leave, but turned back as a thought occurred to her. “You seem so familiar. Have we met?” Familiar as if her very soul recognized him. The throbbing in her pussy seemed to agree. Not, she thought with sadness, that anything would ever happen.
A full-blown smile crossed his face, turning it from interestingly craggy to heart-stoppingly beautiful. Her nipples tightened in interest and her heart beat a hard rhythm against her ribs.
“No, ma’am,” he said, and the smile still tugging at his lips caused dimples to groove his chiseled cheeks. “We’ve never met before.”
“Oh. Well, now we have.” She grimaced at how inane she sounded.
“Would you like to have a cup of coffee?” he asked. A look flitted across his face, suggesting that he instantly regretted the impetuous words.
“Oh, no, I can’t.” Her instinctive reaction was prompted by his obvious wish to retract the invitation, and she fought to maintain her composure. She wasn’t a charity case for some stranger to pity. Her body drooped, while inbred politeness prompted her to murmur, “But thank you.”
She turned and walked away from him, more aware of her scarred and crippled legs than ever before. The physical therapist kept assuring her that she would eventually walk without a limp, but she was impatient. She’d been in therapy for three and a half months already. How eventual was eventually?
She was aware of his gaze following her as she crossed the street to walk the rest of the block to her apartment. When she stepped up on the curb she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder. Disappointed to see he was gone, she heaved a sigh. “Oh, well, Abs. You aren’t his type, anyway.”
Damon frowned when he heard her muttered comment. He walked a few paces behind her in his Protector form, watching her pert fanny swing with her uneven gait. If anything, the limp made her even sexier. It made him want to strip those pants from her and slide into her sweet, wet pussy with a cock that now was rock-solid.
His frown deepened. Even in corporeal form, this had never happened on assignment. He hadn’t thought it was possible for it to happen when he was in spirit form, yet here he was with an erection throbbing along his thigh like a third leg.
He didn’t know what it was about her, but his body reacted with wild need in her presence. Maybe it was that she was exactly his type: elegant, independent and determined, with a gut-wrenching beauty that threatened to double him over with need.
Incredible that she couldn’t see how sexy she was. But he knew every man she came into contact with saw it. And he tensed with jealousy.
She was his.
He curled his fingers into his palms. What the hel... heck was he thinking? He was a specter, sent to protect this woman and thereby assure himself a place in Heaven. He had no business lusting after her. That emotion definitely wouldn’t get him past the pearly gates. “Get hold of yourself, man,” he muttered, in his distraction forgetting to mask his words.
When her head turned sharply, he realized he’d spoken aloud. She looked around, her eyes searching. After a slight hesitation, she entered the building.
Following her into her apartment, Damon watched. Stooping slowly and painfully to pick up an orange tabby that nattered around her feet, she rubbed her face into the soft fur, her eyes closed as she straightened.
He shook his head. Damned if they both didn’t have the same expression on their faces, woman and feline. Closed-eyed contentment. How long had it been since he’d felt that?
Dammit, dammit, dammit! He wasn’t supposed to feel anything. Perhaps he’d better ask for re-assignment before his emotions got him into trouble. But he didn’t think he could leave Abby to another Protector. After the first one’s abysmal failure, he didn’t trust anyone else to keep her safe.
“You know, Jericho, it’s the oddest thing, but for the last several weeks I’ve had the feeling that I’m never alone. I’ve never felt such ... peace, such a sense of security.” She rubbed her face against the cat’s head. “Between that and the dreams, I think maybe I’m finally losing it. What d’ya think?”
The cat meowed and butted his head against her chin. She laughed and placed him on the back of the sofa. “I know, you glutton. You want to be fed again. My horoscope warned me about you. ‘Today someone you love will be focused on their own needs. Don’t feel bad. They’ll come around.’”
She scratched the big tabby on his jaw, laughing again when he stretched his neck and tilted his head to give her better access. “And I do love you, fat cat. You’re my baby, aren’t you?”
Damon felt almost a sense of domesticity, watching her putter around the small apartment, talking to the cat and laughing at herself. If nothing else, her encounter with him seemed to have lightened her mood. For that he was glad. If only...
He deliberately closed his mind to further thought. He was here to do a job. He was to make sure she was protected from the man who sought to harm her, a man who had very nearly succeeded when her former Protector had been distracted.
Damon had been given very strict instructions to assure her safety; he’d sat beside her as she lay in the hospital bed, both legs in casts, face bruised and swollen. She had been stubbornly determined to get well, and he’d fallen a little bit in love with her then.
Abby had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had unwittingly witnessed a vicious crime. Not that she was even aware of it. But the man thought she was, and sought to silence her forever. Which was where Damon came in. He was her Protector, and he’d be damned if he’d let the villain succeed.
He stilled, realizing the import of his words. The veracity they represented. Never mind that she was his hope for redemption, another successfully completed assignment. He would accept the damnation of his eternal soul if it ensured that Abigail McNeil would be safe.
She was more than just a job to him, had been from the moment he’d materialized in her hospital room and had seen her lying so still against the sheets. Now, after having protected her for these many months, he knew he would risk everything to ensure she lived.
When she went into the bathroom and readied for bed, he stayed in the living room. Hearing the water in the shower running, he clenched his fists. He closed his eyes and had no problem picturing what she looked like. Her hair, wet and sleek down her back, curled slightly at the ends just above the rounded curve of her buttocks. Long, slender legs, once strong, now weaker and scarred.
In his mind’s eye, he moved around to her front. Her breasts rode high and firm above her ribcage. Each mound was tipped with a hard, pink nipple, begging for his mouth. Her stomach was slightly rounded, womanly. Soft, light red hair covered her mons and sheltered her secrets from his gaze. He could see her soaping her hands, running them over her soft skin, between her legs...
His cock rose and he stared in disbelief. Again he had an erection. What the hel...heck was going on?
The water shut off and he snapped open his eyes. He heard the shower curtain jangle open, and imagined her stepping out of the tub and toweling off. He wished it were his hands drying her. No, not his hands. His lips, his tongue. He would trace every drop of water, licking it off her silken skin.
If you haven't yet read Rae's excerpt, scroll down. You don't want to miss it!