Left of Centre

Hi Everyone,

I had an interesting conversation the other day. I was telling a friend of mine that my son ferries phone messages to me, asks for money and seems to make all important requests of me…while I’m in the shower! No, he doesn’t knock on the bathroom door, he doesn’t yell through a gap in the door, he just strolls on in and has a chat with me while I’m aiming for some peace and quiet.

This is probably my own fault. I have no real reservations about nakedness. If I’ve been mowing the lawn on a hot Summer day, I will strip off, right where I am, and leap in the pool. I’ve also been known to go wandering through the house in my underwear, looking for the clothing I thought was in my cupboard but which, it turned out, was in the ironing basket. And THAT may have stemmed from the fact that I’m basically a lazy person, so if I can stick children in the shower or bath with me, and wash them while I wash myself…then I will.

My friend thought it was a little odd that my family, (husband and two children) don’t consider nakedness an issue. She told me that most people she knows would find my behaviour a bit ‘left of centre’. This has played on my mind. I’ve actually been worrying ‘Am I odd?’ ‘Am I twisting up my children?’

Since then, I have received a couple of reassuring ‘signs’. The first was in the lingerie section of a big department store. A mother was in there with her two children. The kids were playing amongst the racks while Mum shopped for new bras. Finally a small boy child’s voice asked “Mum, can we go now? This is boring…and disgusting!” I kept eavesdropping (of course) to hear what Mum replied, and it went like this… “This is not boring you idiot. This is underwear. Everybody wears it. It’s not disgusting, it’s normal, so shut-up and let me choose some nice stuff.” I chuckled and went happily on my way.

Driving home today, there was a campervan in front of me with a sign on the back door that said “If God wanted us to run around naked, we would be born that way!” I actually laughed out loud at that one.

So I’ve decided, that despite perhaps being a little ‘left of centre’, I’m no weirder than anyone else. What about you? Are there things you do that make people think you’re a variant on the norm? And how does it affect you?

Rebecca Williams

The flip side

Last time I was here, we chatted about the things we think we should want, but in fact couldn't care less about. This time, I'd like to discuss the opposite – the things we think we should not want, and yet stubbornly insist on wanting anyway.

In writing circles, we talk about characters' secrets, and they generally have to do with their deepest desires. The standard advice for authors is to ask yourself, "What does my heroine want?" and when you have the answer and think your work is done, you realize it's not quite right, and you need to ask yourself, "No, what does she really want?" When you can answer that second question, you'll have a deeper understanding of the character, but you're not done yet. You need to go one level further, asking "No, what does she REALLY want?" and that's where you find the character's secret, her motivation, the key to understanding her enough to make her come alive on the page and to give her a unique and credible happy ending.

It's not easy to get to that final level of what the character REALLY wants. She may not know, herself. Or she could be in denial. Just as there are many things we're told we should want, there are many things we're told we should not want, often with a huge taboo sign plastered over them. And we want them anyway.

The sexual arena seems to spawn a number of these dichotomies. Some segments of society proclaim that women aren't supposed to be as interested in sex (or sexually explicit reading material) as men are. Although some women (not this particular blog's readers, I hope!) may buy into this view of what women shouldn't want, the recent explosion of the erotic romance genre is pretty clear evidence that women do want sex and erotica every bit as much as men do.

There are a number of other proclamations of what women shouldn't want that I find more troubling, especially when I can see some validity in the reasoning behind the "shouldn't." For example, I'm a feminist. I believe in the radical principal that all people, regardless of gender, are created equal. I could never write a truly retro heroine, because I can't fathom a woman ever deferring to a male simply because he has a penis and she doesn't. And yet ....

And yet, I'm working on a couple stories where the heroine plays out a submissive role with the hero, because that's what the heroine REALLY wants in her sexual romps. (Just to be true to my feminist roots, though, I also have one where the hero is the submissive partner, enthusiastically carrying out the heroine's orders.)

Which leads to my question for the day – what do you want that you think you shouldn't want? Wait, that was too easy. Think deeper, about what you really want. And now think some more and tell me what you REALLY want that you think you REALLY shouldn't want.

And the winner is...

Deborah Chan! Yes, I know you didn't mention "nookie" in your post, but I'm relaxing the rule. The thought of making nookie whilst bungee-jumping beats the band! Please contact me on aj@ajaymatthews.com to claim your free download of Mr. Grey and the Hotel Ghosts

Chat Win

Jennybrat, come on down and email me at xandra at xandragregory.com - you've won a little something fun!

Spontaneity

Cover by April Martinez

We've all done it. We've been out and about when the spontaneous desire for nookie comes over us and we just have to grab our significant other and head - where? Into the bushes? The car? Hmm! Or maybe a boathouse..?

Here's an unedited excerpt from the second Mr. Grey novel, Spirit from the Sky, coming soon from Liquid Silver Books...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was dropping towards the hills to the west, but the valley had soaked up enough of its warmth during the day to take the edge off the chill breeze rolling down from the peaks. Claudia shaded her eyes and looked at Martin. "Shall we take that walk? I figure we've got an hour before dark."

"An excellent idea," he said, looping his arm through hers. "Fancy a walk along the lakeshore?"

"Fine with me."

They began to stroll down the gentle gradient toward the lake. "It's beautiful country around here," she said, looking up at the surrounding hills and mountains. "Do you have anything like this near where you live?"

He smiled and shook his head. "No. London has its hills, and the views from Waterloo and the different Commons are nice on a clear day. The Kent and Sussex Downs lie to the south. Now there's a beautiful place," he said, "lots of steep rolling hills and quiet valleys full of woodlands, small farms and orchards."

She barely heard him. Something made her avoid the words back home when she'd asked the question for fear it would jinx things. As far as she was concerned, wherever Martin lived was home for her. But America was her homeland; she loved it and had never left it - yet. Would he want to set up their home in England? He must have the same kind of attachment too. It would be a wrench for either of them to leave the land of their birth. She chewed her lip. No, it was too early to talk about setting up home together, even as she knew in her heart that Martin was the love of her life. They had plenty of time. It would have to be discussed sometime, but for now they were together and it would wait. It would wait.

"It sounds wonderful," she said, realizing she'd been silent for some time. He glanced at her and smiled but said nothing. She waved at the lake. "This must be a wonderful place for swimming in the summer," she said. "Can you swim, Martin?"

"Yes; I won school certificates for the mile, both crawl and breaststroke. You?"

"I only got my qualifications for the five hundred yard breaststroke and hundred yard crawl." She shrugged. "It pains me to admit it but I never really feel comfortable in water, you know?"

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, love." He gave her arm a squeeze. "Sometimes, just sometimes, it's down to a trauma suffered during a past life."

"Yeah? How come?"

"Reincarnation seems to carry a kind of imprint, which those with the right frame of mind or psychic talent can pick up on.

"A friend of mine had a real fear of heights. He couldn't even tolerate just looking out of a window at any height in a tall building. It wasn't too important until he got a job which he later discovered involved working in a tenth floor office once a month."

"Not good," she said sagely, kicking at a stone. It bounced over the ground to plop into the lake.

"No. He made excuses to put off the dreadful moment when he'd have to go into that office as long as he could, but he got so worried about losing the job he turned to me for help."

"What did you do?"

"I got in touch with an expert in regression therapy who took care of him. She regressed him to a previous life as a seaman in early Victorian times. This man was sent up a mast to repair storm damage but the damage was worse than it appeared. There was some kind of accident and he was trapped, suspended by a rope over an awful drop for some time before he could be rescued. That impression stayed with him into his next life."

"Ouch! I can understand that. Was your friend cured?"

"Oh yes. Once he understood the reason for his fear, he was able to tackle it with the help of a little hypnotherapy. He's as right as rain, now."

"Cool!" She looked along her shoulder at him. "Okay, Martin, you now know one of my fears. 'Fes up! What phobias lurk in your mind?"

His face took on an introspective look, and suddenly she knew instinctively that he was considering exactly what he should tell her. With a stab of guilt she realized the question of fears had more significance to a psychic medium than most people.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want, you know," she said softly. "I shouldn't have asked."

He turned and took her in his arms and kissed her. The breeze tousled their hair and seemed to carry the scent of snow. She held him close and looked into his sea-blue eyes.

"I don't mind you asking me anything, love," he said softly. "Yes, there are things I fear, which I'll tell you about in good time. For the moment…" he looked away, "I'll put my hand up and admit I'm not one hundred percent comfortable with height either."

She accepted his diversion from the topic and smiled as she slid her hands inside his coat and cupped his firm butt. "Why so?"

"I'm not sure," he said with a rueful look. "At least I'm okay in high buildings, unlike my friend." He rocked his hand. "It's steep places, high places without handrails and nice, safe firm ground that I don't like."

"Noted, lover." She kissed him. "Let's do a deal. I'll never ask you to climb a mountain high if you don't ask me to swim the river deep!"

"Deal!" he said, and kissed her. They parted a long moment later, and she could feel his arousal pressing against her.

"Now there's something I'm quite sure I understand," she whispered.

Some distance along the shore was a boathouse and a jetty. They made their way hand-in-hand toward it, of one mind and purpose.

Martin pushed open the door and peered inside. An odor of damp and pondweed met their noses, the smell dissipating as the breeze blew through the semi-enclosed structure. Beyond the open end lay the lake, cold and gray-blue in the afternoon light. A yacht was drawn up to the short boardwalk with a green canvas cover stretched over it and pegged down. With a glance back at the resort buildings in the distance he drew her inside and pushed the door closed.

She melted in his arms as he embraced her, her warm breath soft on his skin as she kissed his throat. Sliding his hands inside her coat, he reached down to cup and squeeze her firm butt. Claudia leaned back against the wall and brought her legs up to entwine them about his waist.

"I could get used to this!" she murmured.

"Mmm, so could I!" he said, kissing her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close, as he ran his hands over her body, feeling the supple play and give of her breasts under her heavy sweatshirt. His cock was tight inside his pants and the sensation was growing more uncomfortable by the second.

"Feel the need for release, lover?" she whispered in his ear.

"I do!" he replied with a soft moan. "God, I'm about ready to explode!"

"Let me down and I'll give you a blow," she said, unwrapping her arms and lowering her legs.

His cock gave an extra hard twitch at her words and he released his hold. Standing, she turned him around until they'd exchanged positions and he now stood with his back to the wall. Kneeling, she unzipped his denims and slipped her hand inside the inviting gap. He felt her long fingers seeking for his cock; her touch was cold but it gave an extra little thrill which made him gasp.

"Martin?" He blinked and looked down at her. She wore a mischievous smile. "This time I'm not going to spit!"

"That's…wonderful!" he managed to say, and she winked and drew his cock from inside his pants.

Her fingers closed around it and drew back his foreskin with a practiced motion. He felt the first delicate touch of her tongue-tip on the extreme end of his cock, a gentle dab as she licked away the trickle of pre-cum that emerged as the pressure came off it.

Then she engulfed him in a way that had thrilled him since she'd first done it for him in New York, only days back but seemingly a lifetime ago. Her lips enclosed his shaft and he could feel her tongue running all over and around it.

*

Martin's manhood filled her mouth, touching the back of her throat. His taste, his scent filled her mind, and she held his butt with both hands as she worked to pleasure him. She cast a glance upwards and his face was a picture of sensual enjoyment. His eyes were half closed, two slits of bright blue that looked down at her and he smiled and caressed her hair. Her pussy surged with warmth.

She bobbed her head and sucked him with a gentle rhythm, drawing her teeth over his rigid shaft, scraping his skin and making him shiver convulsively. The heavy purple head throbbed in her mouth, and she could taste the bittersweet pre-cum on her lips and tongue. There was no-one around; she could take her time and pleasure her man as much as he – or she – could stand.

"I want to do something for you," he said softly, his voice strained.

"Later, Martin," she said with a smile as she released her hold, "but don't worry. Your pleasure is my pleasure." She stroked his cock, feeling the moisture of her saliva on the tight skin, loving the warmth, the solidity of him. "Ready for a little more?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Oh yes!" he said, and laughed softly. "Damn, but I love you!"

"I love you too! Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to have my mouth full for a while!"

Keeping her lips tight and moist, she drew him slowly into her mouth, simulating the feel of her pussy and stimulating him so he groaned anew. Setting to with a moderate rhythm she slid his shaft in and out, almost to the point of dropping free of her lips, before plunging deep into her throat once more.

Martin began to shudder, and she could hear his breath hoarse in his throat. Drawing back briefly, she said "don't fight it, lover!"

"Okay," was all he could say.

He was so fired up, so ready to spend. She swallowed him once more, striving to take him all inside. He gasped, jerked, and clasped her head between his strong hands. She had time to take a deep breath before his cum exploded into her throat, filling it with his hot musky essence as his cock throbbed and convulsed between her lips, the boathouse echoing with his cries of release.

"Oooohhh godddd!" he gasped, as his wits returned. "Oh, blimey, Claudia!"

She swallowed his cum with relish, savoring the taste as she stood up and held him close. His arms enfolded her once more and he held and kissed her ardently. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me!" he whispered.

"I bet you say that to all the girls you seduce in boathouses," she chuckled.

Martin stroked a strand of hair away from her eyes. "Only gorgeous redheads by the name of Claudia Mackenzie," he said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So where was the most unusual place you've ever satisfied the urge? No intimate details required, just the location! ;) The weirdest/most wonderful answer gets a free download of Mr. Grey and the Hotel Ghosts. Just say 'nookie' somewhere in your post if you'd like to take part...

Another Hunky Male (VIN!!!) Winner

Little Lamb Lost, come on down!! You are the winner. And since I can not get you a personal audience with Vin (sigh), you will have to accept a signed copy of Treading the Labyrinth, the third book in the Coven of the Wolf series.

E-mail me at raemorgan@worldnet.att.net and provide a snail mail address so that I can send you your copy.

Congratulations.

Rae

Riding the Line - Excerpt

Thanks to Peaches for giving me the excerpt idea to post! And when you're done reading this scroll down to comment and enter Rae's contest for a prize!!!

Riding the Line - excerpt

Grant stood immobilized by the sight of Lindsay’s tight ass jiggling seductively and
the small red-orange tribal flame that kissed her lower back just at the crevice of her butt,
as she retreated to her bedroom. It didn’t matter. Nothing that happened in the past
mattered, and he was sure as hell glad that she had thrown herself at him. Hell. Before he
even knew who she was he’d wanted to bury his cock deep inside her. And that’s exactly
what he was going to do now. Fuck her until she forgot about her past and only thought
of her future. A future of nights with him.

In two strides he’d caught up to her and grabbed her around her waist. He hefted her
over his shoulder, her naked ass high in the air, and turned toward his bedroom.

“Put me down this instant you cretin!”

Her breasts pressed against his back as she kicked and screamed. She pounded him
with her fists, but instead of making him want to put her down, it sent desire rushing
through his body and straight to his cock. “If you don’t quit moving Lindsay, we’re not
going to make it to the bedroom.” He smacked her ass to get her to quit struggling.

She stilled, a high-pitched yip escaping from her mouth.

He smoothed the sting with his hand, trailing down her crevice with a finger before
gripping her legs firmly again.

“Tell me about the fire.”

“What? You’re crazy, what fire, put me down!”

“The fire on your ass, Linds. The one that’s making me burn.”

His bedroom door was ajar, and he kicked it fully open. The anticipation of tossing
Lindsay on his bed and filling her with his cock while he stroked that small flame kissing
her butt almost made him oblivious to the sopping wet carpet as he stepped into the room.
“What the hell?” He set Lindsay down with a splash and walked into the bathroom. The
scent of sandalwood assaulted him as he walked through the door.

Steam billowed out from the tub where the faucet was still running full blast.
Bubbles overflowed onto the floor and shifted with the waves his footsteps caused.

“Oh, my God,” Lindsay gasped from the bedroom.

Grant rushed to turn off the water and found himself flat on his ass.

Lindsay hurried in and promptly tripped over him, falling head first into the teeming
tub.

Grant lunged forward, pulling a sputtering and soaked, but sexy as hell Lindsay out
of the tub, landing on his back with her sprawled on top of him.

The sound of the water rushing dimmed, his soaked suit forgotten. The damage the
water was going to cause swept aside, leaving nothing for him to think about except her.
She lay still, like a deer in headlights, almost sensing the change in him and waiting
for him to make the move. Only fear didn’t show in her eyes, but heat, passion and
threads of love.

His heart jumped, answering those precious tendrils of new love. The words were on
the tip of his tongue, palpable, filling his mouth with the need to voice them.

Lindsay shifted up, her naked body slid over his clothed erection, and licked his lips
in a playful kiss.

He swallowed the words.

He plunged his hands into her soaked hair and forcefully brought her lips to his in a
searing kiss that left them both breathless.

She rocked against him, spreading her legs wide, her sex ready for him.

“Bed.” He pushed her off him and shoved her gently toward the bedroom. “Now.”

Lindsay scrambled to her feet and out the bathroom door.

He turned off the water and shed his drenched clothes as he turned and made his way
to the bedroom.

Lindsay lay draped like a harem concubine on the bed. Her legs open. Her pussy
glistened from her juices. Her rosy nipples were peaked and screaming for his touch. She
reached to him, beckoning him to her.

Like a sailor to a siren, he crawled onto the bed and into her willing arms, into the
cushion of her breasts. He nuzzled her neck, trailing kisses to the soft spot behind her ear
where he sucked gently before nibbling around her ear lobe.

“Grant,” she whispered, arching up into him, her hard nipples poking into his chest.
She wrapped her arms and legs around him. Her heels dug into his butt, pressing his cock
onto her wet core.

He pushed up onto his hands and surged up, his cock spreading her labia wide. Each
thrust forward he bumped her clit with his cockhead, then slowly soothed his way down
until his tip rested between her slick pussy lips. He thrust, then retreated, over and over,
until she was writhing under him.

She gasped and moaned with each tap of his cock on her clit. “Please,” she moaned,
meeting his surge with the tilt of her hips. Her body urging him inside.

Not yet. He wanted her broken from her negativity. Unwilling to let thoughts of her
past filter their way into this night, or any night after.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

The slick friction of his cock on her clit was sweet torture, but he wanted her to come
undone over and over, until she knew nothing but the feel of his cock in her, the scent of
him, the love he showed her with his body.

“Let go,” he urged, bending down to suck a rosy nipple into his mouth.

She groaned and lifted her breast to him, urging him to take more of her into his
mouth.

He tugged and pulled, suckling her deep with each surge of his cock until she cried
out. He backed off of her nipple, but kept up his relentless motion.

“Lindsay.” Grant bowed to her other breast and gently bit her taut nipple. “Let go,”
he said, his teeth still lightly clamped on her breast.

Sweat beaded down his back as he leaned forward, increasing the pressure of his
shaft on her clit and increasing his pace.

She clung to him, her hips tilting upward, matching his thrusts. Her nails dug into his
back and she let go. Her scream filled the room, her body rocking into him as her orgasm
ripped through her.

The Chat is Still ALIVE!

We're still there for any of you night owls! We'll be chatting until 1am EST!

Come see Me (Paige), and Rae Morgan and Jenna Howard is hanging too!

The Pink Posse

Another Hunky Male Pic

Guess who? If I have to tell you, you've been living in a cave for the last few years. Yes, I love my alpha males with a bad boy edge.

Post your comments on your favorite alpha bad boy, and I will choose one winner. The prize? A signed copy of Treading the Labyrinth.

Rae Morgan

Excerpt from No Secrets, Book 4 of The Coven of the Wolf series

Here is an excerpt from No Secrets, found the the Zodiac Pisces duet. I tend to write about alpha males and the women who stand up to them. I hope you like it. -- Rae Morgan

*****

"Debby, stop ignoring me. We’re going to discuss this habit you have of running away from me."

Debby opened the door to her place and entered. Boris stormed through before she could shut the door. She sighed. She just wasn’t in the mood for a lecture about what he expected or didn’t expect from her. And she wasn’t in the mood to mate with him either. Not tonight. The earlier mood, the pre-Ezra mood, had vanished with all the death and destruction at the mobile home park and the confrontation in the woods.

She understood Boris had been scared for her, but she was handling the situation until he’d barged in and taken over. She might have been able to question Ezra--or at the very least trick him into allowing her into his mind to read where Darius and the rest of his merry little band of murdering terrorist witches were hidden.

But Boris and Gor had cut off that avenue of inquiry.

Boris wasn’t the only person in this room who was pissed.

Of course he could read her every thought, which only added to the increasing strain between them.

He wasn’t happy with her. Tough. She wasn’t going to allow him to dictate to her in the real world as he did on the astral plane. He couldn’t have it both ways. She either did her job and used her magick, or she didn’t. And she couldn’t do her job if he tied her hands and restricted her ability to make instantaneous decisions as she had at the mobile home park. She had saved lives by going off to confront Ezra alone--she knew it and he knew it.

"Of course, I know it." Boris slammed the door, using an excessive amount of force, then locked it. The loud snick of the deadbolt shooting home echoed off the walls. "You shouldn’t have blocked me! I was terrified that the dark witch had you."

"I didn’t." Debby headed for the kitchen. She was starved; using magick took a lot of energy. "And he didn’t get anywhere near me."

"What do you mean you didn’t block me?" Boris dogged her heels as if he were herding an errant sheep.

"I didn’t. He did." She jerked open the refrigerator and studied the contents as if her next meal was the most important thing in the world. It was that or hit her mate for doubting her. That was what stuck in her craw the most--that he’d told her she was a key to bringing down the dark witches in Bear Hollow, and then he proceeded to doubt her ability to do it. He couldn’t have it both ways, damn him.

"Gods above and all the demons in the Underworld, he could block you? From me?" Boris stripped off his jacket and threw it against the wall, closely followed with a fist on said wall.

Debby winced and opened the freezer for some ice. His knuckles would surely bruise after that.

"Debby, look at me, dammit, when I’m talking to you."

"I would if you were talking to me, but you’re not." She wrapped some cubes in a dish towel and placed it on the counter, then turned back to the contents of her fridge. "Put that on your hand."

"What am I doing if I’m not talking to you, little hell cat?" he growled. "Knitting?"

"You’re yelling at me. I don’t listen to anyone yelling at me." She turned and glared at him. "Got it?"

The tension in the air between them built up like a teakettle approaching boil. The explosion came with a blinding flurry of movement from Boris. Before she could even squeak, he had her in his arms. Shoving her against the wall, he shoved his body against her back, his arm securely around her waist. Using his other hand, he ripped her shirt from her and sank his teeth into her shoulder, all the while growling in the back of his throat.

"Bo?" Her voice was shaky and came out low. Maybe she had pushed him too far.

"Shut up, bébé! I refuse to go through another hellacious half hour like I did tonight. We’re mating and that’s final. No witch nor man of any kind can interfere with the mind touch of a shifter and his consummated mate."

Pulling her into his body, he rubbed his all-too-ready cock against her butt. His hand slid hand down her naked abdomen and across the top of her regulation khakis to the juncture of her thighs. He rubbed the heel of his hand across the crease of her pants--hard. One-handed he pulled the zipper down and thrust his fingers closer to her heat. She was wet. Her earlier reluctance for intimacy now swept away with his blatant male aggression.

She couldn’t contain her moans when he sank his teeth into her shoulder again, then scraped them along the sensitive tendons of her neck. Every sharp, moist nip and bite triggered answering contractions deep within her core. Her pussy wept for more. Her body readied itself for her mate’s ultimate possession.

Boris licked and nuzzled her neck, now soothing rather than aggressively sexual. "I read your mind in the woods. You wanted to roll on the ground with me after I killed Ezra. You aren’t afraid of my animal tendencies at all, are you?"

Debby heard the underlying fear in his question, knew that he couldn’t believe that she accepted that side of him. "No, I’m not afraid of you."

"Why not?" He used his free hand to shove her hair aside as he turned his oral attention to the sensitive area behind her ear.

"Because," she let out a long low moan as the combination of his lips and teeth on her neck and ear and his fingers on her clit sent her sensual tension to another level. "Because you’d never hurt me."

"And why is that, bébé?"

"Because you love me." She groaned through a petit orgasm. "Just as I love you."

"Yes-s-s-s, exactly."

Boris let go of her waist and turned her within the circle of his arms. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her eyes, nose and then took her lips in a deep, tongue-thrusting kiss. His body crowded her back against the wall; his pelvis matched the rhythm of his tongue and thrust against her. Her arousal spiraled upward and just when she could see stars and feel herself about to fall over the edge into a whirlpool of sensation--he broke off.
She moaned at the loss of his heat, his touch. "No, please ... dammit Bo! Finish it!"

Copyright Rae Morgan, 2006.

Excerpt From Repo Chick Blues

Here's a hot excerpt from Repo Chick Blues. I hope you like it!

I went in, got two bottles of beer, took a deep breath and went back out, handing him a bottle.

“Thanks.” He locked me in his calm, river-green gaze and I was helpless to do anything but stand there.

He patted the spot beside him. “Come on. I won’t bite.”

“Right.” I sat down next to him. My heart was thumping so hard I was afraid he’d see it through my top. I took a long swig of my beer and pretended to be interested in my yard.

Callahan set his bottle on the side table and sat back. I turned to look at him, my gaze moving over those strong legs, taut belly and broad chest. Before I even knew what I was doing, I was climbing on top of him, straddling him, and bringing my mouth down on his, the beer still in my hand.

He kissed me back, taking the beer from my hand and setting it down on the side table before I dropped it. His hands came around my waist and moved over my back, sending tiny shivers through me. I probed his mouth with my tongue, kissing him deeply, not able to get enough of his mouth. I breathed him into me, a little moan escaping my mouth as I ground my pussy against his stiff cock, the fabric of my panties growing damp against my clit.

“Leah,” he murmured against my mouth. “I want you so fucking bad.”

I sucked on his tongue as my fingers found and fumbled with the button of his jeans. His fingers did the same with my cut-offs and we both lifted up so the other could tug the denim down our thighs. I reached down, pulled the cut-offs over my legs and kicked them off.

“Holy shit, you’re brave. Anybody could drive up right now.”

“Uh huh.” I scanned the road in front of the house. The back of the outdoor sofa blocked us, but cars moved up and down the road constantly. Drivers could see my shoulders and face easily.

His cock was rigid and lay straight up against his belly. I grinned. “I guess you like me, huh?”

“Oh yeah. Just a little.”

I lowered myself so that my clit pressed against his erection, and moved myself slowly up and down over it.

“Oooh fuck, Leah. You keep that up and we won’t get far.”

Callahan slid down into the sofa and gripped my hips, lifting me so that I was level to his face. When his lips touched my pussy, I immediately pressed myself against his mouth, needing to feel his tongue on me. I looked at the street, watching cars go by. The mail truck stopped and a young woman began shoving mail into my mailbox. She glanced my way just as Cal sucked at my sweet spot, and I felt my mouth drop open as heat traveled through me. She grinned and gave a little wave. I waved back and she drove away.

Tendrils of desire swirled in my clit as he sucked it, flicking his tongue over it, making little circles before sucking it again. My walls squeezed together tightly, aching for release.

“I want you. I don’t care if we haven’t yet had a date.”

He gave me a loopy grin, his eyes dreamy, “Well okay, then. Since you put it that way.”

I took him in my hand and lowered myself onto him, sighing as he filled me up, caressing every nerve ending. The feeling was exquisite. “Oh…”

I tried not to rush it, but my body wouldn’t listen. I leaned forward, hands on his shoulders, and began moving up and down, faster and harder with each stroke. I watched the street, the cars going by, a couple riding their bikes, a woman jogging, all going past the house.

Cal’s hands gripped my hips and he lifted his pelvis, lifting me up and down with more and more force. “Is anyone watching?” His voice was breathless.

Two cars stopped to wait for a red light. One of them, a silver Volvo driven by a woman, carried a passenger; a man in a shirt and tie, his blond hair gelled into place. He turned to look at my house. Spotted me. At first his face looked confused, but then he smiled. He was handsome, and I grinned back as I continued to bob on Cal’s cock. “Yes. Red light.”

“Man or woman?”

I kept my eyes on the man. “Man. All dressed up. He’s smiling at me.”

“He knows you’re fucking someone.”

“Yes.” My voice came out as a whisper. My pussy grew tighter and began to quiver.

“You like that?”

“Yes.”

The man and I had locked gazes, and as the first shudder over-took me, I bit my lower lip to stop myself from crying out, keeping my eyes on the man’s face. Pleasure stuttered through me, almost blinding in its intensity.

I felt Callahan stiffen beneath me, he jammed himself high into me as my walls tightened over him again and again.

The light turned green and the cars moved forward. The man winked at me as his companion drove away. He never brought her attention to what was happening in the house on the corner of the street. I knew he never would.

I leaned in and kissed Callahan’s mouth. “Wow.”

“Yeah. Wow.”

More Eye Candy.

Josh Holloway anyone?

Fallen: Danielle Excerpt

Here's an excerpt from my latest Fallen book, Danielle. Released last November.

(c)2005 Tiffany Aaron

Excerpt:

Danielle laughed softly. The head archaeologist had a great ass. She ogled him as he ran up the steps. His faded jeans cupped his tight butt with nothing left to the imagination. She often wasted her time wondering what the rest of his impressive body looked like. She had the feeling Grant didn’t spend time thinking about her unless he was annoyed about her touching his artifacts.

A strange pull came from the museum. She wondered if another fallen had come that day. Having no interest in joining the Enforcers or unrepentant, she tried to avoid both. She thought about the vague sense of unease she had felt coming from Grant. Could it have something to do with the pull she was getting or was it his basic dislike of her?

She made her way into the museum. Flashing her name badge, she walked past the security desk. Making her way towards the back of the first floor, she glanced up at the two large elephants placed in the lobby. Smiling, she said a silent hello to them as she went by.

Wandering around the museum, she tried to get an idea of where the pull was coming from, but it wasn’t from the public areas. She went down into the employee only area and soon she found herself standing outside the archaeology labs. She had to laugh. Maybe her fascination with Grant was screwing up her fallen ‘radar’ since she knew for a fact the man wasn’t one of her brethren. Shaking her head, she turned and walked away. There was no way she was going to bother the man again today.

She decided to leave. Obviously knowing Grant was coming back today had made her think something was happening at the museum. She stood on the steps and stared out at Soldier’s Field. Pulling on her jacket, she took a deep breath and felt a sense of coming home. New Orleans was nice, but the problems she got involved in down in the city made her happy to get back to Chicago. Flagging down a cab, she decided to go home for a while. She knew her cat would ignore her out of anger and spite. Princess didn’t like her human being gone any longer than a day. She settled back into the seat and brushed her hair out of her eyes. New Orleans had been a learning experience for her.

When she was an angel, she had done all the right things and tried her best to stay out of trouble. In one foolish moment, she went against her normal cautious nature and she fell with the rest of them. Had she ever thought God would forgive them? Maybe He would eventually, but she wasn’t going to wait around for Him to make up His mind. She also wasn’t going to become a hunter for Him. There was no way she would prey on her fellow fallen. Pity welled in her heart every time she thought about the unrepentant. They had never found happiness or contentment in the world. They would always long for Heaven and their wings.

She watched the buildings speed past and thought about those fallen who hunted the unrepentant. Dominic had been the first Enforcer she had spent any time with and she wondered if he was the typical kind. She had thought Enforcers were as crazy as the unrepentant. Both sides were trying to find a way to end their exile. Enforcers did clean up so Mika’il, the Father’s archangel, could do his usual work.

A smirk graced her face. She wasn’t sure what Mika’il’s usual work was. He seemed to spend more time bothering the Enforcers than helping mortals. He didn’t visit her very often because she chose to stay out of the way. She tended to irritate him when he did talk to her. She didn’t hold the archangel in awe. She knew he had a hard time of it, keeping mortals in line and trying to keep the fallen from killing every one. Hard way to make a living she thought.

Sure it is, but I would rather be doing this. The archangel’s voice echoed in her head.

She laughed. Why? There has to be other things you can waste your time on. We’ve always been difficult to handle.

Difficult tends to be the definition of fallen. Mika’il was amused. Thank you for the help with Dominic. I want you to know he and Teresa are doing well.

Thank you for letting me know. They’re good people.

Yes, they are and so are you.

Redemption Excerpt

Redemption by Sherrill Quinn, part of the Zodiac: Pisces duet

Abby McNeil was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now her life is in danger. She is assigned a supernatural Protector--Damon Stratham. Damon's job: protect this innocent from harm while remaining invisible and unknown to her. But Abby's an extraordinary woman and Damon's not one to follow the rules. Add a cranky archangel boss and a vampire Protector, and all sorts of mayhem ensues.

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.

“Poor baby,” she said, walking back into the living room. He stilled, then realized she spoke to the tabby winding around her ankles. She held her robe over one arm and wore a towel wrapped turban-style around her head... and nothing else. “I forgot to feed you. Come on.”

She drew on her robe as she went into the kitchen, but Damon had the image of her body seared in his mind. She was exactly as he’d pictured. High, taut breasts with soft pink nipples, long slender legs that melded into a heart-shaped ass. What he hadn’t imagined was the smattering of freckles across her chest.

He was partial to freckles. Fairy kisses, his mother had always called them. They made him want to kiss his way around Abby’s body, following that golden, inviting trail.

Abby fed the cat and got herself a drink of water. When she went into her bedroom, he couldn’t resist following her. She rubbed the towel against her wet hair, then dropped it over the back of a chair. Shrugging off the robe, she slid into bed naked.

Damon watched for a while, listening to her sighing breaths as they evened out in sleep. Slender shoulders peeked above the sheets, skin not much darker than the pristine white linens. He moved close enough to be able to see the gilded trail of fairy kisses across her chest. The little sprinkles disappeared under the sheet.

He wanted to follow that path and see if the freckles continued on skin that rarely saw sunlight.

Thinking of her lying there naked didn’t do anything to lessen his erection. He snagged the towel from the back of the chair and quickly walked back into the living room before he did something stupid--and forbidden--like slide into bed with her.

There was still the problem of his hard-on. Not bothering to question it any more, he took on corporeal form and unzipped his pants. His cock, the tip already pushing above the waist of his briefs, throbbed in its demand for release. He pushed his underwear down, hooked it under his tight balls, and gripped his shaft in his right hand.

His fist slid up, once, twice, then he ran it from the tip to the base, a quick brush. He imagined it was Abby touching him, light, soft hands moving slowly against his thick, pulsing shaft. With a sigh, he acknowledged that he didn’t need it slow and gentle. He needed hard and fast.

Copyright ©2006 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.

Sacking the Quarterback excerpt

Here's an excerpt from my January release..Sacking the Quarterback. Enjoy!

Damn, Johnni’s got a great ass, Donovan thought. It was round and firm. Her jeans hugged her cheeks, making his hands itch to squeeze them. He had a second to notice she’d stopped before he ran into her.

“Put them on the counter. I’ll put them away.” Gesturing to the tray, she smiled at him.
He blinked. God, he hoped she hadn’t noticed him staring at her ass. He set the glasses down and backed off, reaching to adjust himself when he turned away. “So what do you want on the TV?”

“This is a sports bar, isn’t it? Sports Center should be on.”

He felt shock run through him. A woman who would willingly watch sports instead of soaps was a rare find. He flipped on ESPN and turned the volume up when he saw something on his brother.

“The Renegades aren’t saying much about the shoulder injury Jackson Klasek sustained in the conference game,” the anchorman said.

Donovan sighed. “Damn, I was hoping the reporters would ignore it.”
“So how’s he doing?”

He turned to see her leaning on the bar. “He’s sore, but it’s nothing he can’t deal with. He’s not taking pain killers though.”

“I watched the game. It looked like a bad sprain. Why won’t he take meds for it?” She brushed her hair up into a ponytail and he got his first good look at her breasts.

All thought of his brother shot out of his head. Her breasts were small and pert. He wasn’t a big breast man. He didn’t like women whose breasts made them look top heavy. Hers would fit nicely in the palms of his hands. Her nipples were outlined by her tank top and he wondered what they would taste like.

“Mr. Klasek?” Her voice broke into his reverie.

Shit, he couldn’t believe he’d drifted off and stood staring at her chest. He looked up at her and saw the hint of pink in her cheeks. At least she didn’t look mad at him. In fact, he must be dreaming because he swore he saw a flash of interest in her eyes.

“Call me Donovan.” He moved closer to her.

“Okay, Donovan. Why doesn’t your brother want to take pills?” She didn’t step away from the bar.

He stood on the other side and leaned into her space. There wasn’t any back up in her. When their lips were almost touching, he said, “He saw how hard it was for me to kick my addiction to them and he never wants to go through that again.”

Her breath was warm on his lips and he saw her eyes widen. A flash of pity and then a flash of understanding shone in them. He wanted to kiss her, but a crash sounded as the bar door burst open. He jerked away. He didn’t want any of his staff to see him hitting on one of his employees.

“Where’s Roscoe?” one of them asked.

“He’s sick. Johnni’s filling in.” He waved a vague hand towards her.

“Okay.” The others went to store their stuff.

Johnni stared at him and he couldn’t help but smile at her. She winked and laughed. As he walked past her on his way to his office, she grabbed his arm and pulled him closer.

When he looked at her, she said, “I hope you’re going to work up the courage to kiss me some time soon.”

His mouth fell open. “Umm...”

Her face flushed. “Of course, you might not want to do that.” She started to turn away.

“Wait. That’s not the problem.”

“What is the problem then?” Her gaze met his with a question.

“I’m just not sure.” Shrugging, he knew he couldn’t explain his reasoning to her when he didn’t know the reasons himself.

She nodded. “Fine. Maybe when you are sure, you’ll come and find me.” She kissed his cheek and walked away.

“I will,” he said quietly.

Tiffany's Eye Candy.

Thought I'd give you ladies some eye candy. :)

Yummy, huh?

Don't forget

The Pink Posse chat is ALL DAY,

so if you missed the morning session

come join us for the afternoon!!!

Chat room

Is there a Dr. in the HOUSE?

Here are a few Wenworth shots for you.
What a hottie!
Enjoy!

Prison Break - HOTTIE BREAK!

Darragha and the pain of firewalls

Hello peeps

I can't come out and play today at the Pink Posse chat...until around 8pm Eastern/5pm Pacific. I'm stuck behind a hellish firewall at the place I lovingly refer to as my 'full time hobby.'

Please check back for excerpts, prizes and more during my chat...I'll be there scortched, but smiling, (as I'm trying to find a way around the firewall).

Darragha
www.darraghafoster.com

If you sign my guestbook and email your snailmail address to me at darragha @ gmail.com (no spaces), I'll send you bookmarkers! Maybe even sticky notes!

Blurb, Excerpt & Cover for Tempting Fate

 Clotho Moirae is weary of spending eternity with her two sisters on Mount Olympus.  More than ready for a break, Chloe craves a good vacation.  This time, however, she wants to go to the one place she's never been, and for good reason--one visit by a Fate has the potential to spark titanic problems.  What's the hot vacation spot that tempts Chloe?  Earth.   
   Tanner Danner had spent most of his life trying to watch out for his too-trusting innkeeper mother.  When she is brutally murdered by one of her tenants, Tanner becomes a hermit, shunning contact with humanity--especially the eccentrics who had been drawn to the inn.  Eschewing the family business, and with nothing much to hold him to life, he tries to find refuge in his solitude and at the bottom of a liquor bottle. 
   But when Chloe shows up at Tanner's inn, they both find that Tempting Fate has never been so good. 


Excerpt:

In her room, as Chloe was readying herself for a day spent shopping--ah, the glorious wonders in which mortals could engage--she was still chuckling over the fact that her host's name was Tanner Danner.
   She supposed she should stop laughing at him. After all, his mother had recently passed away.
   And why hadn't she known that?
   As a Fate, she should have been in tune with those around her, especially those who were coming close to their own mortality or had just lost someone significant.
   That she hadn't recognized that about Tanner immediately did worry her a bit. She held her cell in her palm and considered calling her sisters, but she didn't want to worry them.
   Instead, she tucked it into her purse.
   Apparently her powers on Earth weren't what they were on Olympus.
   She'd do well to remember that.
   And not tell her sisters.
   Grabbing her purse, she ran downstairs, called a quick goodbye to her host, and left the small Oceanside Inn.
   She made her way directly though the sand dunes to the beach.
   It was beautiful. It was still early in the day, but in a few hours, she knew that the beach would be full of people. She should know; she always had to keep an extra special eye out for snags in the threads of Spring Breakers. But she didn't have to worry about that right now.
   She was on vacation.
   Smiling to herself, she bent down and unlaced her sandals so she could walk unfettered through the warm sand.
   Her first vacation in a few thousand years.
   “This isn't your first trip to the ocean, is it?”
   She was shocked to hear Tanner's voice directly behind her. Apparently her powers were really out of whack down here.
   It was her first trip to a real ocean. They had ocean-like things up on Mount Olympus, but they didn't duplicate the salty sea air, or the constant yapping of seagulls. Or that smell. A few hours into her journey and Chloe already knew she was going to miss that smell.
   “Actually, it is.”
   “Really? Well, then, you've got to put your feet in.”
   He smiled at her, but it was a sad smile. It didn't reach his eyes at all. This man was really suffering and it was killing her that she hadn't known.
   “Race ya,” she said before taking off down the beach.
   She slid to a halt just before the water touched her toes. Turning, she saw Tanner strolling through the sand towards her.
   He looked natural as a beach bum.
   His blond hair was sun-kissed and several days' growth of beard covered his jaw. He moved naturally through the sand, not almost falling every other step like she had done.
   He was still wearing the faded jeans he'd answered the door in, but he'd paired it with a shirt so faded that she could barely make out the words Crab Shack.
   “How did your mother die?”
   She didn't mean to blurt it out like that. He almost looked peaceful for a second there and she had to go and ruin it. The expression on his face changed as surely as a steel cage had dropped down over him.
   He was silent so long that she didn't think he was going to answer. When he finally did, his voice cracked and he looked away.
   “I don't want to talk about it.”
   Millions of questions flittered through her mind, but even with her senses as dull as they were, she knew not to ask them. So she remained silent.
   She couldn't say she was sorry. She was a Fate. She was the one that had woven the thread of his mother's life. It was her fault that this man in front of her was in so much pain now.
   This was why her sisters warned her that she didn't want to come to Earth.
   When she opened her mouth, she wasn't sure what she was going to say, but it certainly wasn't what ended up coming out.
   “Eeeek!”
   Cold water hit her in the calves and splashed up to the backs of her knees. She took a step forward, but her foot got mired in the saturated sand.
   She headed straight down, face first.
   But then, instead of getting a mouthful of grainy mud, she remained standing, though she had thumped against something hard.
   “Omph.”
   “Water scare you a little bit?”
   Okay, so maybe she acted a little bit foolish. It was just a little bit of water. Things like that were bound to happen when you were standing with your back to the ocean.
   “It startled me.”
   For the first time since she'd met Tanner, he smiled a real smile. A smile that went all the way to his baby blue eyes.
   Wow.
   She didn't even so much mind the fact that he was laughing at her.
   “Yeah, that water, it can jump up and get you.”
   She felt the rumble begin in his chest; it was hard not to as she was plastered against him. Then it escaped--a deep masculine laugh that had her tingling in places that had lain dormant for a very long time.
   She wasn't a virgin; she'd dare anyone to live for several millennia and remain a virgin, but she could honestly say she'd never felt this way before.
   Tanner's arms around her, though she no longer needed his support, made her feel warm and protected. Things she'd never really thought about before. You didn't have to think about being warm and protected on Mount Olympus.
   His body was hard. She could feel the muscles under his shirt, though he hardly looked like a gym rat. And something there, below the waist, was getting much harder.
   Before she could stop herself, she whimpered.
   “Sorry,” he said, practically pushing her away. The laughter died and he went back to being that same closed off Tanner.
   “It's okay,” she said when she desperately wanted to launch herself back into his arms.
   “Were you going somewhere?”
   He took a few more steps away from her. He stood at the water's edge now. The water flowed over his feet, soaking his jeans, but he didn't seem to notice.
   “I, uh, I was going to meet a friend. We were going to go shopping and then to lunch.” She took a stab in the dark with her next question. “Would you like to join us?”
   Her heart sank when he gave her the answer she'd been expecting.
   “No thanks, but have a good time.”
   He turned and trudged back up the beach. She watched until he disappeared over the sand dunes.

Excerpt from Candy Hearts and Flours in I'm No Saint, Valentine

Hi all,

Here's an excert from I'm No Saint, Valentine, with Rhiannon Neeley.

In this, Mariah--a demon from Hell sent to Earth to find and seduce a saint--has seen Patrick as a man for the first time. She thinks he's the saint she's been looking for, when in fact he's an angel taking a second chance on Earth in order to save someone's soul. He thinks it's John's--the man Mariah mentions.

I hope you enjoy!

Then she heard it. Water! It hadn’t been in her dream, it had been in the little room with the white bowl. Setting the cat on the bed, she charged to the room. The sound of running water ceased, but she threw open the door anyway, half expecting to be swept away in a torrent.

Her eyes widened. Patrick stood in the long white box, perfectly naked. Emphasis on perfect.

“Mariah, what are you doing in here?” A cloth dangled from his hand but he seemed unable to move.

Droplets clung to his hair and skin. She’d known he was tall, but fully clothed he didn’t seem to reach the height he was now, in all his bare magnificence. Strong, sinewy muscles defined his shoulders and upper arms. His wrists seemed delicate in comparison, but his hands mysteriously held equal parts strength and tenderness. The columns of muscle forming his legs took her breath away, and his man-thing. Oh, my! She fell back against the wall at the size and thickness of it hanging between his thighs.

He was splendid, in every way. Mariah had seen many specimens of males in Hell, and none approximated the greatness of Patrick, in looks or stature. None made her feel the way he did, either. With a suddenness that staggered her, heat filled her belly. She licked her lips. With delight, she saw Patrick watch the movement. His man-thing grew in size and began to rise. Fascinating! She wanted to touch it. Smiling slowly, she pushed away from the wall and walked to him.

“What is this for?” She touched the cloth. Belatedly he tried to cover himself, but she took it from him.

“To dry myself.” His voice rasped. “Where are the pajamas I bought you?”

Tilting her head, she ran her finger down his arm, connecting the dots of liquid until they flowed in a solid stream. “I don’t sleep in clothes but I didn’t want you to think me unappreciative of the gift. When you turned onto your side, I removed them.”

“Oh,” he whispered. In a stronger voice he added, “You shouldn’t be in here right now. I’m, uh, I’m naked. And you’re naked, and it’s not right.”

But his man-thing rose higher, gaining girth and hardness. She placed her palm on the top and found it to be smooth and soft. Her fingertips explored the length of his shaft, drawing a deep groan from him. Hard as granite, long as a pike.

Full and heavy, her breasts ached to be caressed. She rubbed them against his chest. His breathing grew rough.

“This isn’t right, Mariah. I beg you to leave.”

The cloth trailed from her hand where she rested it on his shoulder. “Why do people wet themselves just to dry off, Patrick? And why use this cloth, when I am available?” Applying her tongue to his nipple, she lapped all of the moisture from the flat brown disk and then suckled him.

“Mariah,” he moaned.

Never had she felt such power. Who could’ve imagined domination would come so naturally? Patrick was a saint--she felt his goodness instinctively, and he smelled so ... clean, he had to be the man she sought. Certainly no one else in this hellish city except John came close. She could seduce Patrick. She knew she could.

Turning her attention to his other nipple, she managed to stroke his man-thing, too. Burning need filled her. The mechanics of seduction she knew. But she wasn’t prepared for how her actions would affect her. She’d had no inkling of the spiraling tension building in her or how the blinding need for release would grip her.

Patrick grasped her arms and forced her away. His breathing seemed tied to the speed she pumped his man-thing. It jumped in her hand and he cried out. “Please stop, Mariah. Don’t-don’t do this.”

“Patrick.” She purred his name. “I need you inside me. You know you want to.”

His eyes were wild. Harsh breath rasped from his throat and his hands tightened on her arms. “Don’t-don’t... Stop.” With a groan of surrender, he lifted her to the rim of the box and crushed her to him. His hips ground his man-thing into her stomach. Their mouths met and he ate at her, devouring her lips, thrusting his tongue inside to taste, and taste and...

A longer "first meeting scene" excerpt from Vampire Next Door

Val Drakul had two choices. He could either sink his fangs deep into the flesh of this woman’s luscious, lithe neck--and dispose of her deliciously curvy body later--or he could ask his attractive, half-dressed, uninvited guest to sit down and stay awhile.
He chose the latter.

“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” Val said, letting go of his prey and switching on the hall light. “I’m Val Drakul. You must be my new neighbor upstairs. Shelby’s cousin, right?”

Her face paled as he led her toward the living area. Her cat-green eyes widened with fear and surprise. “Y-yes. I’m M-Mel... Melynda Kerpanik.”

She stuck out a unsteady hand to shake. Her skin felt velvet soft and warm to the touch. Val clenched his jaw, fighting back an almost insatiable urge to taste her .
“And it’s not what you think,” she continued. “I heard this awful noise so I came down to investigate and--”

“You just happened to notice my door was unlocked?” Val raised one dark eyebrow and chuckled. “So you entered my abode to make sure if everything was all right--is that correct?” She nodded. He motioned for her to sit down beside him on his leather couch. Slowly she bent her knees and relaxed against its cool, smooth surface.

“That was very neighborly of you, Ms. Kerpanik.”

“Uh, thanks. You can call me ‘Mel’ if you like.”

The blush on her high cheekbones enchanted him. The white streak in her part, dividing her waist-length black hair like a skunk’s stripe, he found sexy, too.

“I used to live next to a little old lady who had this awful tendency of falling and breaking her hip,” she continued. “So I tend to act first and ask permission later.”

“That’s an admirable trait, Mel.” He frowned, although his dark eyes continued to scan her curves. “‘Mel’ sounds like a man’s name, and you most definitely aren’t a man. I shall call you Melynda instead. Is that all right?”

She swallowed hard. “Please do.”

“I know I really shouldn’t say a word about your nickname when mine is ‘Val’. I get tons of junk mail addressed, ‘Valerie’. Very few men are named ‘Valentine’ these days. I suppose I should change it.”

“No, I wouldn’t. It’s a good, strong name. And I love the holiday.”

“Really?” He smiled and settled back in his seat. This Melynda person was definitely worth getting to know better even if she was a mere mortal. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked. She shook her head no. “That’s okay. I’m probably out of everything except beer any how.”

She grinned nervously. “Typical bachelor.”

“Yes, I am. And I do have an appalling habit of not locking my doors at times. I don’t expect too many night visitors, so when I go out on a shoot I forget to throw the bolt.”

“A shoot?”

“Photos. I’m a photographer.”

“Yes, so Shelby told me. I noticed some fantastic cityscapes in your darkroom.”

He lifted one curious eyebrow. “Why, thank you. Do you happen to have one of my calendars?”

“Calendar?” Her green eyes widened. “You posed for a calendar?”

“No, I don’t model.”

The endearing blush crept up her cheeks once again. She demurely pulled her robe tighter across her more-than-ample breasts. Val forced his hungry gaze away from his attractive guest’s obvious charms and returned to discussing the topic at hand.

“I shoot a yearly cityscape calendar of St. Louis. Would you like one? I have several promotional copies in my study.”

“Oh, yes, I’d love one.”

Val rose and swiftly exited the living area before Mel could exhale her long-held breath.
What the hell am I doing chitchatting with my devastatingly handsome neighbor at three in the morning? She was certifiably mental. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. She was hooked.

The man couldn’t get any better looking if he tried. Even his name sounded sexy: Drah-kool. The way he said it sent orgasmic sparks zinging along her spine. She couldn’t quite place the accent, but wherever he was from originally the women there were mighty fortunate.

His muscular backside had intrigued her in the moonlight. But now that she could enjoy his face close up his aquiline profile fascinated her to no end. Dark, obsidian eyes glowed with an inner spark above chiseled cheekbones and a smooth, square jaw line. When he looked at her it was if he could see right through her and glimpse the throbbing pulse of her heart. His wavy, shoulder length, jet-black hair was to die for. His slightly olive skin tone denoted perhaps some Mediterranean or Eastern European ancestry? Either way, it was amazing Hollywood hadn’t scooped up a stud like him and put him in pictures.

Sex appeal--Val Drakul simply overflowed with it. His full lips looked like they were made to kiss and to be kissed--passionately and frequently. And his smile? Closed mouth yet quirky. Like he laughed with confidence at all life threw at him and then some. Like he knew his own mind. Like he enjoyed a good beer, a good smoke, a good woman...
Mel pulled her silk robe tighter across her peaking breasts. The mere thought of making love to Val Drakul made her knees turn to Jell-O. It had been too long--way too long--since she’d been with a man.

That damn cheating ex of hers gotten it from both her and his man-stealing girlfriend for a time, but she’d been living the life of a nun since their marriage broke up. Her luscious-buns neighbor probably didn’t suffer at all in that particular department. She didn’t want his pity.

There was no need for Val Drakul to learn that she was a lonely, undersexed, unemployed art teacher from Kansas. She had to get out of here. She’d take her free calendar, wish him goodnight and run the hell back upstairs before she wet his nice leather couch thinking how amazing he must look without his clothes on.

“Here you go.” Mel stood as Val returned to the living room and handed her a large, glossy calendar. “About half are in color and half in black and white. I prefer the black and white shots myself, but the publisher always insists on at least six of the twelve in color.”

Mel flipped through the pages, mesmerized by his talent and technique. In the thrill of discovering another artist’s work, she completely forgot about her desire to depart.
“How breathtaking! They’re simply beautiful. I love your black and white photos, too. Has Shelby talked to you about doing some art photography for the lofts upstairs?”

Val looked decidedly uncomfortable for a split second before his charming smile reasserted itself. “Yes, she has. But I declined. I have more than enough business with the calendar shots, my own gallery showings and the occasional freelance opportunity. Maybe some other time.”

“Too bad. I was thinking of doing at least one of the lofts up in a cool black, white and metallic gray scheme and your photos would be superb accents. You sure you won’t reconsider? They wouldn’t have to be new photos--they could be reprints.”

She turned back to October’s picture of a huge, blood-red harvest moon hanging over the Arch, illuminating it and the river beyond with an eerie orange glow. “I could really see this photo blown up to a good wall-picture size hanging over a dining table.”

Quick, like a cat, he stood beside her, glancing over her shoulder. Mel shivered slightly and felt the dampness between her legs growing.

“Ah, yes. That’s one of my favorites. I wouldn’t mind seeing my Halloween photo framed and hanging on a wall rather than in just a calendar. Let me talk to my publisher about the reprint rights.”

“Fantastic.” She beamed a smile in thanks at him. “It will make my decorating job that much easier.”

“No promises. But I will try,” he said softly.

Mel turned slightly, examining the handsome visage mere inches from her own. Those lips... those eyes. She could see herself taking Val’s strong chin in her hand and tilting his head just a little toward hers and then… Vivid images of her and her newly introduced neighbor moving together as one between satin sheets flooded her mind. It was as if it their joining had already happened—or would happen—and she had no control of how fate would bring them together for better or worse.

“Melynda? Are you all right?” Concern etched itself across his features. He reached out to touch her shoulder.

“Me? I’m fine.” She shook her head and rubbed her temples, inching away from him. The disturbing feeling of déjà vu quickly passed. She’d only been in the Twilight Zone for a few seconds this time. Why she hadn’t outgrown these occasional psychic daytrips was beyond her. “It’s late, and I’m not thinking too clearly. I’d better go now.”

“Yes, you’d better. Unless...”
“Unless?”

She looked deep into his eyes and then she knew--she could never leave him.

“Unless you’d feel safer staying here tonight.” His rich baritone enveloped her like a cloud, drawing her further into its mists; his intense, dark eyes plumbed the depths of her soul.

“I mean, this is an old building and there are lots of strange noises. The vast majority of them are innocuous, but...” He shrugged.

She swallowed hard, licking suddenly dry lips. “You mean there’s something in the building that isn’t harmless?”

“Yes. Me.”

Help! I’m Falling for the Vampire Next Door…coming soon from Liquid Silver Books: http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com/

Celine Chatillon

Some like it hot. Some like it hotter. And some enjoy a fun, steamy read from Celine Chatillon. What kind of reader are you?http://www.celinechatillon.com/

A short excerpt from Help! I'm Falling for the Vampire Next Door

Help! I'm Falling for the Vampire Next Door...

A quick synopsis:
Valentine Drakul longs for a mate, someone to share eternity with who won’t be totally grossed out living on a diet of steak tartare. Could the sexy girl living upstairs fulfill his every fantasy?

Melynda Kerpanik got the heck out of Dodge, Kansas, and ended up in St. Louis working for her cousin as an interior decorator. But will her career plans take a backseat to her curiosity about things that “go bump in the night”?

A deadly foe ensnares Mel in his evil plot to rid the world of Kindred race... Can Val save the mortal woman he loves without transforming her into the eternally lonely being he's become?

An unedited and unproofed excerpt from
Help! I’m Falling for the Vampire Next Door…

Mel rolled Val to his back and rained kisses upon him from his hairline to waist, savoring his nipples for extra treatment. He arched his erection closer to her full lips and cried out as she twirled her tongue around its engorged head until he could almost stand it no longer.

“Now, lie still and let me straddle that huge cock of yours and take it in slowly… for my sake as much as for yours. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Hurt him? She was afraid of hurting him? Val sighed. She could never hurt him… not like he could hurt her—eternally.

“It won’t hurt. I love you, Melynda. I want to be inside you, a part of you. Completely.”
Mel flung a leg across his hips and lowered her body until the tip of his manhood barely brushed the fine hairs circling her core. She swayed back and forth, enjoying the sensation as his hands firmly caressed her hips and buttocks.

“We can stop now if you like, or we can go on,” she murmured.

Val felt his fangs growing, lengthening. The heat of the moment and the scent of her soft, warm flesh were intoxicating, and together they dissolved his inhibitions. He felt the overwhelming urge to thrust his canines into her neck and drink of her goodness, to taste and savor the sweetness of her blood…

Help! I’m Falling for the Vampire Next Door…coming soon from Liquid Silver Books: http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com/

Celine Chatillon
Some like it hot. Some like it hotter. And some enjoy a fun, steamy read from Celine Chatillon. What kind of reader are you?http://www.celinechatillon.com/

Repo Chick Blues Sizzling Excerpt

Here's an excerpt from Repo Chick Blues. I hope you like it!

I went in, got two bottles of beer, took a deep breath and went back out, handing him a bottle.

“Thanks.” He locked me in his calm, river-green gaze and I was helpless to do anything but stand there.

He patted the spot beside him. “Come on. I won’t bite.”

“Right.” I sat down next to him. My heart was thumping so hard I was afraid he’d see it through my top. I took a long swig of my beer and pretended to be interested in my yard.

Callahan set his bottle on the side table and sat back. I turned to look at him, my gaze moving over those strong legs, taut belly and broad chest. Before I even knew what I was doing, I was climbing on top of him, straddling him, and bringing my mouth down on his, the beer still in my hand.

He kissed me back, taking the beer from my hand and setting it down on the side table before I dropped it. His hands came around my waist and moved over my back, sending tiny shivers through me. I probed his mouth with my tongue, kissing him deeply, not able to get enough of his mouth. I breathed him into me, a little moan escaping my mouth as I ground my pussy against his stiff cock, the fabric of my panties growing damp against my clit.

“Leah,” he murmured against my mouth. “I want you so fucking bad.”

I sucked on his tongue as my fingers found and fumbled with the button of his jeans. His fingers did the same with my cut-offs and we both lifted up so the other could tug the denim down our thighs. I reached down, pulled the cut-offs over my legs and kicked them off.

“Holy shit, you’re brave. Anybody could drive up right now.”

“Uh huh.” I scanned the road in front of the house. The back of the outdoor sofa blocked us, but cars moved up and down the road constantly. Drivers could see my shoulders and face easily.

His cock was rigid and lay straight up against his belly. I grinned. “I guess you like me, huh?”

“Oh yeah. Just a little.”

I lowered myself so that my clit pressed against his erection, and moved myself slowly up and down over it.

“Oooh fuck, Leah. You keep that up and we won’t get far.”

Callahan slid down into the sofa and gripped my hips, lifting me so that I was level to his face. When his lips touched my pussy, I immediately pressed myself against his mouth, needing to feel his tongue on me. I looked at the street, watching cars go by. The mail truck stopped and a young woman began shoving mail into my mailbox. She glanced my way just as Cal sucked at my sweet spot, and I felt my mouth drop open as heat traveled through me. She grinned and gave a little wave. I waved back and she drove away.

Tendrils of desire swirled in my clit as he sucked it, flicking his tongue over it, making little circles before sucking it again. My walls squeezed together tightly, aching for release.

“I want you. I don’t care if we haven’t yet had a date.”

He gave me a loopy grin, his eyes dreamy, “Well okay, then. Since you put it that way.”

I took him in my hand and lowered myself onto him, sighing as he filled me up, caressing every nerve ending. The feeling was exquisite. “Oh…”

I tried not to rush it, but my body wouldn’t listen. I leaned forward, hands on his shoulders, and began moving up and down, faster and harder with each stroke. I watched the street, the cars going by, a couple riding their bikes, a woman jogging, all going past the house.

Cal’s hands gripped my hips and he lifted his pelvis, lifting me up and down with more and more force. “Is anyone watching?” His voice was breathless.

Two cars stopped to wait for a red light. One of them, a silver Volvo driven by a woman, carried a passenger; a man in a shirt and tie, his blond hair gelled into place. He turned to look at my house. Spotted me. At first his face looked confused, but then he smiled. He was handsome, and I grinned back as I continued to bob on Cal’s cock. “Yes. Red light.”

“Man or woman?”

I kept my eyes on the man. “Man. All dressed up. He’s smiling at me.”

“He knows you’re fucking someone.”

“Yes.” My voice came out as a whisper. My pussy grew tighter and began to quiver.

“You like that?”

“Yes.”

The man and I had locked gazes, and as the first shudder over-took me, I bit my lower lip to stop myself from crying out, keeping my eyes on the man’s face. Pleasure stuttered through me, almost blinding in its intensity.

I felt Callahan stiffen beneath me, he jammed himself high into me as my walls tightened over him again and again.

The light turned green and the cars moved forward. The man winked at me as his companion drove away. He never brought her attention to what was happening in the house on the corner of the street. I knew he never would.

I leaned in and kissed Callahan’s mouth. “Wow.”

“Yeah. Wow.”

Sensation of the Seas - May 1st release! hot excerpt

Sensation of the Seas Excerpt:

Miklos endeavored to loosen his grasp and gentle his touch. It took a Herculean effort, but he told himself he didn’t want to scare her with the full force of his passion. Oddly enough, she didn’t appear to be frightened at all. She was fumbling at his buttons, and pushing his shirt off of his shoulders. He assisted long enough to remove the shirt without tearing it apart.

With his chest expanding and contracting in deep breaths, he gave her a moment to appreciate his dark coating of chest hair, and then he slipped his hand under her dress. He stroked his fingers over her thighs and listened for any protest. If she were shy about revealing her body, he’d allow her to keep her dress on. To his surprise, when he reached her waist, she wasn’t wearing any underwear and didn’t seem shy at all. She took his hand and guided it to her center then let out a little mewl as he fingered her bare mound and damp folds.

She reached for his belt and unhooked it as his other hand traveled further up her back too unhook her bra. She wore no bra, either. Cupping her breast, his thumb found her nipple and he rubbed it. Breathless, she grabbed and tugged at his zipper. “Miklos, help me get your pants down.”

He stilled her hand. “Wait, my love.”

“What?”

“Not like this.” He bent down to kiss her. The tender kiss seemed to calm them both. “I am anxious too, but this should be done with tenderness, love and respect.”

She was panting. “All right. But the second time, we can just shag like rabbits, right?”

For more about the book go to my website www.cyndiredding.com

Excerpt from LOVE & MAGIC: Grave Awakening

This one is hot...so 18 and over please...by Shara Lanel

Diera has just arrived at her aunt's house, which used to be her home, and she expects her bedroom to be exactly the same as when she left.

Diera hugged her aunt once again, following her outside. Once she’d driven off in her late-model sedan, Diera heaved her suitcase from her trunk. She stood on the street and stared at the luggage as if it could talk to her. Was this the right thing to do? She’d be freer to investigate without someone noting her comings and goings, but it wouldn’t even have been a question if she hadn’t seen the Wiccan circle last night. Finally she shrugged. She’d stay for a night or two at least.

Though it was a fairly small overnight bag, dragging it up the stairs to the third floor--her old bedroom--wore her out and reminded her that she needed to get back in the gym before flab set in. Still huffing, she leaned against the wide sill at the top of the landing and stared out the wavy glass. Why was old glass wavy? She really hadn’t a clue, but she could tell the replacement windows in this house easily, and this was one of the originals: thick, ripply, with tiny bubbles and a greenish tint. From here she could see glimpses of Hollywood through the tree limbs. In daylight it looked peaceful, sprinkled with tourists or mourners taking grave rubbings or photographs or laying flowers. Diera had not set foot through those gates since her mother’s funeral. She hadn’t wanted to then, but her grandpa had insisted on pain of disinheritance, not that she cared about any non-existent inheritance. She’d only done it to keep peace in the family and to show all the gossiping cousins that she was just fine, not visibly marked by the Devil, no “666” floating above her head.

Diera whirled away from the window. They were vicious memories, and the reason she didn’t visit Maeve as much as she should. When she was away from here, she was a normal computer programmer, her geekiness hidden under soft femininity. Well, normal except for her photography and her knack for finding people, which had to do with taking pictures of things she wasn’t supposed to see and sticking her nose where it wasn’t wanted.

She climbed the last five steps from the landing to the third floor and dragged her bag down the hall to the first door on the left.

* * * *

Holt always performed his rituals skyclad--naked in other words--and Maeve respected his privacy. Her bedroom was on the second floor, but she spent most of her time in the kitchen or the garden or her crafts room on the ground floor. She never bothered him on the third floor since he’d started renting from her two months ago.

He was once again seeking clarity and insight into his coffin dreams and the mysterious woman in them. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind all day at work.

It really sucked that the rest of Richmond got Sunday as their day of rest or of church at least, but his slave driver boss, Al Graves, had ordered his three graphic artists to get their butts into the office early and show him some stellar ideas for their current client, Privates by LeClaire, an underwear line for men and women. So Holt had left before having a chance to talk to Maeve about Diera’s appearance in Richmond last night. Unfortunately, none of the designers’ ideas had satisfied the boss. Memories of his tirade were making it hard for Holt to concentrate on his ritual as he poured salt onto the hardwood floor in the shape of a circle, lit a single candle, and settled into a meditation pose.

His room was sparsely furnished, leaving him plenty of space to perform rituals in the center. He lit a sage wand to cleanse the air and murmured the words to summon the Watchtowers. Once the cleansing was complete, Holt closed his eyes, inhaled deeply ... and swore. Not out loud. He didn’t want to invoke any negative magick inadvertently, but his thoughts whirled around possible underwear ads and how he might conserve oxygen if he were indeed buried alive. This sucked. He wasn’t going to accomplish a thing if he didn’t relax, so he resorted to one surefire method of calming his mind.

He opened his eyes, focused on the candle flame for a few moments, and took another deep breath. He closed his eyes again and placed his left hand on his left knee. With his right hand, he reached between his legs and cupped his balls, gently massaging. The goal was not arousal, which was sometimes used in sex magick, but simply relaxation.

The tips of his fingers stroked just behind his balls, then rolled higher to the base of his cock. Thumb and forefinger circled the shaft and pulled upward with light squeezes to the head. As he stroked, blood flowed to the organ and it gradually stiffened. He found himself picturing Diera’s face lit by the parking lot lights at Byrd Park, gold tinting her red locks, eyes shadowed, lips glistening. He increased the pressure and speed of his strokes, though still keeping them unhurried. This wasn’t about an end result. This was about clarity, seeing her, learning more about her. How was she meant to affect his life?

He knew one effect she was having on him already, as a tiny drop of pre-cum soaked his finger. He slowed his touches and focused on inhaling and exhaling, thinking about his breath and the air around him, picturing the candle flame. A new image entered his consciousness. Diera’s body skyclad except for a sheer robe hemmed with red velvet, dancing about an altar under the light of the full moon. She was beautiful, peaceful, and power emanated from her pores, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She was a goddess, beautiful, seductive, ancient.

But that image faded into the mist before he could decipher its meaning, replaced by a far more erotic one. Diera still danced, but this time completely nude and not outside. She was in this bedroom, lit by candles, surrounded by a red aura, and her eyes were smoky, focused on someone ... him. Her petite fingers embraced one luscious breast, exploring both the feel and the feelings it created as she pinched her own erect nipple while he watched. With her other hand, she stroked lower, past tight red curls, into the V between her thighs. Trails of liquid glistened against her skin, tangible evidence of her arousal. One fingertip parted her labia, revealing a hot pink nub awaiting her tentative touch. Holt’s body burned and he ached to touch her, but all he could do was watch as her fingers stroked and she moaned.

*

The door opened and smoke circled into Diera’s nostrils. It was from a white candle lit in the center of the room and a charcoaled bunch of herbs sitting on a clay trivet next to the candle. Beyond the candle ... Diera’s mouth dropped open. Holy shit! It was a naked man--in her bedroom! Why was there a naked man in her bedroom?

She registered dark wavy hair, heavy eyelids, slightly opened mouth, strong cheekbones ... Oh, my God, it was Holt, the witch from last night. What the hell was he doing in her bedroom?

But, boy, he was a masterpiece! Sun-darkened skin covered Michelangelo shoulders and scrumptious pecs. He was sitting Indian-style inside a circle that seemed to be made out of salt, white and crunchy. Her eyes drew naturally lower, following the sparse curls of his chest hair to his divine abs, and lower still to...

HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE EXCERPT...

Shara
www.sharalanel.com

Hot off the paintbrush... Cover Art!

I can't wait to share this fabulous cover that the super-talented Lynn Perkins painted for my upcoming LSB title Help! I'm Falling for the Vampire Next Door. The lovely Tina posted it here for me. :) But you can also check the cover out at at the SIN forum or at my web site http://www.celinechatillon.com

And before you ask--he's mine--all mine! :)

I kept thinking of what she's backing up against... "Is that a roll of Life Savers in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?"

Tell me what you think about this hot duo and the Arch in the background. :)

Quick and Dirty

Just a quickie to announce my winners.

CHERIE, JENNIFERY, ESTELLA, DEE AND DEBBIE E
Ya'll email me at cece at celiastuart.com and tell me whic one you'd prefer--Once in a Blue Moon or Dancehall Diaries: Lynette.

And since I'm here and chatting at Pink Posse any second now......I thought I'd post an excerpt from Blue Moon:

“I got you something,” Ty said, returning from the bedroom.

Peeking over his shoulder, I saw the white carpet continued in there. Inwardly I shuddered. The place definitely needed brightening up. “Are you feeling better?”

And a part of me still couldn’t believe I was sitting in his living room. Had agreed to marry him. That he’d actually be mine in just a few days. My inner cynic refused to celebrate until after we said “I do.” Then, it would be real. Tangible.

Then I’d believe.

“Still tired but yeah, a little. I am, sorta.” He stopped about three feet from where I sat and said, “I’m gonna be a dad.” He chuckled, pushing his hair off his forehead again. A nervous habit?

I returned his smile, softening at the excitement in his voice. A mirror of the same excitement I’d felt the first time I heard the baby’s heartbeat.

He took a deep breath, then sat beside me on the couch. His words snapped me from the daydream I’d been drifting in and out of all day. “I suppose we should make this official.”

“Official?”

Ty held out his hand, motioning for mine. His calluses were rough against my palm. “Your nails are purple.”

“Cassi’s idea.” I laughed softly, my insides melting. I knew what was coming and was touched. At his excitement over being a father and his desire to do the right thing, despite his obvious nervousness.

“I hope you like this. I saw it today, and well, it just kinda looked like you.” He slipped the ring hidden in his right hand on my finger. The elaborate white-gold band was a perfect fit in more ways than one.

“Oh, Ty!” I blinked back my sudden tears, admiring the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen. A huge solitaire with diamond accents and a hand engraved band. I lived for different, unusual or quirky, and he’d noticed that, then taken the time to make sure I had a ring he thought I’d like--elaborate, girly and one of a kind.

The ring was a work of art.

“Do you really like it?” he asked, his voice low. “If you want a brand new...”

“No! This is perfect, Ty. How could I not?” I gushed. “Beautiful. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!”

I threw my arms around him, pulling his head down to mine. The lava pit low in my belly began to roil as we kissed. I moaned, teasing him with my tongue and liquid heat seeped through my veins, eating away at the shell around my heart. I allowed myself to believe for just a little while. To feel protected as he drew me closer and kissed me back, his lips smooth and warm against mine.

His hand slid up my side to cup one breast through my blouse, his fingers brushing across an oversensitive nipple. I arched my back even as he moaned low in his throat and we fell back against the cushions. His lips grew more insistent, more forceful, until I couldn’t think.
Before we could finish our little celebration the phone on the sofa table behind us rang, jerking us back to reality. Ty jumped as if he’d been scalded and grabbed it.

(Almost) Better than Coffee

I'm chatting over at thepinkposse.net this morning, and I've got coffee in hand, with whipped cream on top as a special treat. And for your special treat, I've got a spicy little excerpt of my new release, "Alien Communion." Rayne's made her illicit, naughty exchange with her alien friend, and is ready to enjoy some safe, simulated alien relations...or is she?

Hope you enjoy!

* * *
She turned away from the unit's soft glow, checking the blackness of the warehouse for any signs of life. Nothing disrupted the dark, save for the glow. Wait--She tensed, the pit of her stomach dropping.

No. The brief spark at the edge of the light cast from the unit was an illusion, an afterimage from the movement of light to dark and back again. She sighed, the imagined brush with discovery both scaring her and, astonishingly, exciting her.

As she walked back towards her coalescing fantasy lover, dampness slicked her inner lips and trickled between her thighs. Her nipples tightened in anticipation.

Finally, after an eternity, he was solid.

Wordlessly, he came to her. Damn, she thought. Ez'iri knew her better than she thought. The "passing resemblance" to her kinsman was the understatement of the century.

"Come here, secret fantasy lover," she said, feeling free to indulge in a little overemotive dialogue, away from prying eyes. "There's no one around to watch our little secret."

She opened her mouth for his kiss. He rubbed his alien tongue against hers in a slow, deliberate rhythm that blossomed into an echoing heartbeat between her legs. The cool, smooth skin of his fingers stroked her body, and she put her hands over his, guiding his hands to cup her breasts.

He seemed to know what to do then, letting his thumbs graze her nipples. She pushed his head down to her chest. "Take one in your mouth," she commanded breathlessly.

He did so, stroking his rough tongue across the sensitive flesh. The ache between her legs intensified. She'd had enough foreplay. She pushed him down further.

The program, however, in its sophistication of learning and adapting to external stimuli, resisted. He focused on her other nipple, laving it with his tongue until she squirmed. When she commanded, "Down," he snapped his sharp teeth down on her lightly. The pleasure-pain sent a wave of dizziness through her.

Finally--oh, finally--he knelt before her and ran his hands up the insides of her thighs, his thick fingers parting her lips, dipping inside for the briefest of moments before emerging, dewy-wet, to stroke her aching clit. "God, please," she begged, feeling the blood rush from her head to her crotch.

He pushed a finger inside her slick channel. Her inner muscles contracted as he slid deeper. And the yearning welled up inside her, that unfulfilled hollowness that soon--please, oh, soon--would finally be filled.

LSB AUTHOR LIVE CHAT AT PINK POSSE

Thursday, April 27th, from 9 am to 1 am EST,
Liquid Silver authors will be chatting at The Pink Posse!

We'll spend the day talking about our Heroes.
Our alpha men that make you quiver with want,
And our beta men that make you want to remove their glasses
and see what they're hiding.

The Live Chat will be at The Pink Posse,
but the pics and excerpts will be at SEx!

Stop in throughout the day for SExy fun,
SiNful indulgences, and Hot Prizes!

Naughty Good Fun

Morning everyone! Sorry I'm a bit late, #1's stupid teacher decided to do a last-minute experiment with eggs and well, we don't eat eggs, so guess what I had to do this morning? Yeah, anyway.......

#2 came home with this homework assignment Monday night--nearly drove us nuts trying to finishing it and since it drove us nuts, I thought I'd use it to drive ya'll nuts! WAHOOOOOOO

Oh yeah, I guess ya'll want to know what the assignment was, huh? You have to take a letter of the alphabet and make a rhyme--better known as an alliteration (I think). Except of course in our case, I wanna see how wild, crazy and downright naughty you can get! In return, five people will win copies of Once in a Blue Moon or Dancehall Diaries: Lynette!

Here's an example: Pollie picked a pack of pink prophylactics

Entering New Territory

SEx ... Silver Expressions
Well, Love Potion Number Sixty-Nine marks my entrance into the paranormal realm so to speak. Though it's not a very dark or spooky story, it has a love potion, which involves a change for a woman to get the man she wants. However, it might be the start of something new for me in my writing. Despite my effort, whenever I try paranormal, it often comes out as humorous and cute. Hmmm. Is that possible?

Morning After ~ Deb Curwen & Erin Katz

Like a Hurricane
Deb Curwen

&

Love Potion Number Sixty-Nine
Eric Katz

Call it Kismet

So, as you're reading this, there's a very good chance that I'm doing my final set of edits of my first book with Liquid Silver, Tempting Fate.

Tempting Fate is the story of Chloe Moirae, one of the three Fates.

So, I got to thinking about Fate.

Mythology has several theories about the origins of the Fates. They may be the daughters of a Titan, may be the daughters of Zeus, they may have come from other places. It's said that the Fates visit a newborn baby on the third day of their life and decide the course of their life.

Clotho spins the thread of live, Lachesis measures and Atropos cuts the thread.

Of course my Fates have kept up with the times, they invented a machine to do most of the work for them! They'd never have time for themselves if they had to keep up with the population.

So, lets talk about Fate. Do you believe in Fate? Destiny? Is your life preordained?

People have said to me, "oh, you were destined to become a writer, you were always telling stories as a kid." But is that really fate? Or is Fate, like hindsight, 20/20?

What about when it comes to love and romance? Are you and your loved one fated to be together? Do you think there's only one person out there for anyone? Is Fate something like love at first sight?

What do you think?

Late-Nite Randomness

So here I am, just finished watching four episodes of Neon Genesis Evangelion and thinking, "what can I possibly blog about that's sexy after having watched cartoons of alien angels battling giant robots piloted by teenagers over Tokyo 3? And then it hit me--duh! It must be time to bring on the bishies!

Bishounen is a term found in anime and manga (the Japanese style cartoons and comics) that means "beautiful boy" and is an artistic style that renders male characters more pretty than handsome. Now I first got turned on to the style waaay back in college, when anime, aka "Japanimation" first made its way into indie video rental stores on college campuses (because everybody else thought "cartoons=kidstuff" period), and our group consisted of SF/Fantasy fans who regularly watched "Akira" for the whole gangfight-through-neo-Tokyo fun. Somebody brought over a video of "Vampire Hunter D" and I got absolutely sucked into the story, the lush drama of a classic vampire tale complete with lovely heroine and tortured, accursed hero.

But what really struck me was the way the characters were drawn. Everyone had such delicate lines, including the men. It was much different from the Disney-style animation, or the regular Saturday-morning cartoons prevalent in North American comics. Men with long, silvery hair and high cheekbones, or dark spiky hair and compelling eyes...and a storyline that had a romantic bent. Win!

I went on to be a regular watcher of all sorts of anime through the years. Anime-watching via video rental is spotty at best, because unless you know where to look and what to look for, you can end up with some really random videos that the store only ordered because the cover looked neat, never mind that it's episodes 7-13 of a series where none of the other episodes can be found. >_<

Of course, nowadays, not only is there a thriving anime section in most video stores (one thing I grudgingly have to thank Pokemon for), but manga can be found in bookstores, too. So my eye candy may be a bit different, but I hope the bishy's no less dishy! I say good evening now, and leave you with a bishy-baddie by the name of Vicious, from "Cowboy Bebop."

Lunch Dish

So I got all worked up over the sexy undies post this morning, and then reality dawned. Saturdays at casa de Xandra are all about getting hot'n'sweaty doing...

Yardwork.

If it involves the yard, the garage, or the shed out back, then it happens on Saturday. And it's usually dirty. But sweaty ain't so bad, because getting sweaty means you get to cool off, too. And I found one of my old favorite recipes for a great spring or summer cool-off treat. It's no-bake and involves cool-whip and whoa, does it make you go, "mmm..."

NO-BAKE MARGARITA PIE

INGREDIENTS:

• 1 1/4 cups crushed pretzels
• 1/2 cup butter, melted
• 1/4 cup white sugar
• 2 limes, zested and juiced
• 1/4 cup orange juice
• 1 (14 ounce) can sweetened condensed milk
• 1 (8 ounce) container frozen whipped topping, thawed

DIRECTIONS:

1. In a medium bowl, combine crushed pretzels, melted butter, and sugar. Press mixture into a pie pan.


2. In a large bowl, mix together lime juice, lime zest, orange juice, and sweetened condensed milk. Fold in whipped topping. Spoon filling into pretzel crust. Chill pie for 25 to 30 minutes.

And if you start making it now, it'll be ready by dinner... :D

Saturdays are for Sexy!

"Wait," you say. "Didn't we just see this broad a few days ago?" Well, yeah. But I'm like a bad penny that way...or maybe a telemarketer...or that tissue you shoved in your jeans pocket and forgot to take out before doing the wash and now it's all over the entire load of laundry...

All right, all right. Shuttin' up about the laundry.

Or maybe not. I've been thinking all week about what I wanted to talk about...in front of my captive audience. :D And aside from thinking of all the lascivious ways I could write something about captives (a little light BDSM, anyone? ;) ), I wanted to talk about Sexy. What makes you feel it? Other than the obvious, of course--everybody gets that. But what special little everyday things do you do that make you feel the sexy.

For me, it's all about dressing the part. I'm always on the lookout for undies that make me feel and look good, and heaven knows that a good bra is one of the best things in the universe--try to steal my man--if you think you can, but keep the hands off the good bra. I've been on the prowl for my latest future acquisition--a babydoll.

Babydolls are flattering to my post-partum marshmallowness, and the whispery, flirty, swishy feel makes me feel sexy (and makes me forget to worry about if my thighs are too heavy). This one's from Victoria's Secret. And no, I will most definitely not resemble the model when wearing it.

But I'll feel a sight damn sexier!

So what charges up your sexy? What makes you feel like thinking, "Eat your heart out, 'cuz you'll never have it goin' on as much as I do right now," to everyone who passes by you on the street?




Now, for an incentive, I just want to say that guys can get the smexay on from undies, too. After all, a chap like this fella here has got to be thinking, "Yeah, I got it goin' on." Because you know any man who can bag his package in hot pink flowers and wear a straw cowboy hat has got a pair of solid brass ones tucked down in that gear.

Xandra, signing off until after lunch...

Repo Chick Winner

And the winner of the free Repo Chick Blues download is Shuck Ying! Congrats Shuck Ying!

Email me at:
tm-sharp@hotmail.com
and let me know where to email your free copy! Thanks to everyone who commented. I had a lot of fun with you all today.

Take care, everyone!

What is Sexy?

Sexy is so subjective and personal, isn't it? You can ask ten different men what they find sexy in a woman and get ten different answers: Eyes, legs, laugh, walk, hair color, scent, and on and on. The same goes for what a woman finds sexy in a man.

What do I find sexy? Well, what really gets my motor running is a man who is strong but gentle. The sight of a man in the kitchen, cooking or doing dishes, is really sexy to me. A man pushing a stroller or holding a baby will do it as well.

I love pictures like this one, which I got here. Had to post that link just so I don't get into trouble ;)

I like sweet men. I'm so finished with the bad boys. What is sexy to me is an honest, sweet, genuine, reliable man. One that I can depend on. One that I can be my spazzy, goofy self with.

What about you? Tell me what you find sexy in partner in comments and I will do a random drawing for my book Repo Chick Blues :)

The winner is...

The winner of a copy of The Zodiac Series GEMINI is Shuck Ying! Congratulations. Please email me at shara @ comcast.net (without the spaces) and I'll send the pdf file to you.

I also wanted to let you all know that PRIMITIVE PASSION just finaled in the Erotic category of the National Readers' Choice Awards. Look for it to be available soon in trade paperback.

Thanks to everyone who posted today--I enjoyed it. Now I'm off to relax... *g*

Shara
www.sharalanel.com

Relax with me...

Have you ever had a massage? I know some people who would never consider letting a stranger touch their bare skin in such an intimate way. Personally, I love massages. A good massage therapist can practically send me to heaven on the table--or to sleep. I like chair massages, too. They're cheaper, often $1 per minute, and you can get them in the oddest places, like outdoors during a festival or in the middle of a mall. My favorite place to get chair massages is at the WRW Retreat in Harper's Ferry. I'm heading there next weekend and can't wait! They use this thing called a "Thumper" and it totally releases all the tension in my back.

I've been trying meditation lately, something I used to do in yoga class during college, but it's hard for me to completely relax by just lying still. I've got the meditation on my ipod and the music is great, but my body remains tense and I have to keep shooing my to-do list away.

A year or so ago, we put a Jacuzzi tub in our bathroom (along with tiles, new sink, etc). It's the most luxurious part of the house. Turn on those bubbles and turn off the world. I usually take a book in with me, but half the time don't read it. Just close my eyes and float in the water. Bliss. Then I think back to being in the hot tub with my hubby in Jamaica, just the two of us, overlooking the beach. Ahhh.


So I want you to tell me your most relaxing memory. Out of those of you who post comments, I'll pick a winner to give a copy of The Zodiac Series GEMINI. And have you heard that the entire Zodiac Series is coming out in trade paperback soon? GEMINI will be part of the Air anthology. I'll be checking back soon for your comments!

And don't forget to check out my revamped web site! You'll find my latest giveaway on the News Page.

Shara
www.sharalanel.com

HOW MUCH SEX IS ENOUGH?

Happy hump day (that's Wednesday, in case you hadn't heard that expression, not happy "humping" day *LOL*)!

Today's topic is about sexual content in books. Those who keep up with Mrs. Giggles know that she recently editorialized about erotica books and included the Brava and Blaze lines in her rant. Arguably, Blaze isn't erotica, but it's still a spicy line for Harlequin. Anyway, my question is, what is your criteria for an erotic romance? Should sex be central to the plot? What about a strong, engaging story that contains explicit sex scenes? What does it take to satisfy you? **BWG**

I've written both. In Love Lessons and Hay Fever, having sex was critical to the main plot. Heart of a Soldier, my latest, has a time travel romance plot that happens to have hot sex scenes between the hero and heroine. As a reader, I don't care. In fact, the plot can be a lot meatier (no pun intended!) than a sexual oriented story. But what about you as a reader?

Tell me, how much sex is enough for you? In an erotic romance, that is!

Nessie

Winner!

Robin49, my 11-month-old hand-picked your name out of the cup (and then ate the slip of paper it was on), which entitles you to a gift card to Bath and Body Works! Please get in touch with me at xandra @ xandragregory.com (remove the spaces). Congratulations! And thank you to everyone for blogging with me on the Morning After!

--Xandra

Late-Night Pillow Talk

Nothing winds down the day like a little snuggle under the sheets. :D Unless, of course, it's a warm night, and all that cuddling is done on top of the sheets. Or maybe on the floor...or the kitchen table...or the backyard with the lights turned off...or on... Okay, I'll quit now. ;)

Besides, I have a more pragmatic question for all you late-night SExers. It's about toys. Now, I'm not Dr. Rae (although her advice has proven invaluable...especially as one of the heroines of my current WIP wears ritual jewelry on her nipples), so when I say "toys," I'm talking about the other stuff that makes me hot and bothered--TECH! (I'm such a g33k!)

I'm in the market for a new e-reader. Nothing I need to buy today, but I'm shopping...just in case Mr. Xandra is so inclined for Mother's Day...

My current e-reader is my Palm IIIc (which really wasn't a dinosaur when I bought it five years ago). Of these, my favorite is the Palm. Now I've had several Palms over the years, starting with the good ol' Palm Pilot waaay back in the day. I've always written stuff on them--making plot notes, writing snippets, scenes, drabbles, or outlines is fast and easy with a portable keyboard.

But what I really love about reading ebooks on my Palm handhelds is that I could *read in the dark.* And if you've ever been sucked into one of those stories that makes you get up at three AM and go into the bathroom to just get to that next chapter while the rest of the family is yelling, "Go to bed, already!" then you know what I'm talking about. I can stick my head under the covers, turn on my Palm IIIc and read until my eyeballs fall out. All night long, if I'm willing to pay the price. I also love the fact that I can carry around about fifty hot'n'naughty stories around (including my own hot'n'naughties) in a little thing that fits in my purse.

What do you read your ebooks on? I'm sure just about every ebook author and/or publisher asks this question, but there's a good reason behind it. That reason is, of course, shopping. I'll spend good money on good tech, but I want to hear from users. What do you read your ebooks on, and why do you love it? Or why do you hate it? If money were no object, what would you *like* to read your ebooks on?

The AfterNooner

So how is everybody today? Where I am, there's a gorgeous, balmy day...sun shining outside my window, tulips in my front yard (and I keep thinking of that old joke--"Would you like roses on your piano, sir?" "I'd rather have tulips on my organ, thank you." ba-dum bump-rimshot!)

I don't know about you, but the after-lunch food coma is the bane of my day...so let's get that blood flowing with a sexy little excerpt. I hope you enjoy. And remember, I'll be picking a name from the day's blog comments for a delightful little body treat!

He stroked her flank. "Your skin is so different. Fascinating and obscure." He cupped her breast, tipping his hand this way and that. Her nipple stiffened to attention, sending a stab of longing to her center.

She looked down at his hand moving over her flesh. The crimson ruddiness took on a pattern of light and dark hues, almost like the rosettes on a panther's pelt. The darker hues took on a bluish cast. "You're getting aroused again."

"Should I not? I am with the mate for whom I have waited many long years."

His words were pure fantasy--what woman wouldn't dream of hearing them?

But what woman could really believe them? Outside of the sensual, private world that was this pleasure craft, she might bring about the destruction of an entire race, one of who shirked his biological duty to reproduce by declaring his fidelity to her.

And those reasons seemed to be the very reasons she should take a page from his book. Outside--they weren't outside, though. They were here, suspended among the stars, and alone. Why not indulge in a little fantasy. If she was fated to die in a few hours or a few days' time, then God knew she deserved a little of her own.

Coyote Xandra

Wow. I'm all psyched about my first Morning After blog. Because in the Blogosphere, you don't wake up hung over, with bad breath, and trying to determine if you'll need to chew your arm off to sneak away without--

Okay, never mind that. :D This morning, I thought I'd blog a bit about one of the themes I love to write about, and one that's eminently suited to erotic romance.

One of my relatives, who does not write, asked me what my book was about. Because she isn't in the industry and doesn't watch the trends in romance, I felt kind of at a loss as to how to describe what I write to someone who wouldn't recognize the industry buzzwords. Now, everyone talks about having that "high-concept pitch" of 25 words or less. Some people practice it, hone it, and sharpen it until it's worthy of being printed on the back of a business card and handed out at RWA conventions.

I blurted mine out before my brain could engage. "Wild monkey sex with hot lizard men," I said.

I immediately wanted to take it back. To suck in a huge breath and take those words back, because in spite of being absolutely true--my heroine does have wild monkey sex with hot lizard men--it's so much more than that.

Which brings us around to my theme. Rayne, my heroine, pushes the boundaries of her courage and her comfort when she stops thinking about her career and starts thinking about herself as a woman--and what she needs as a woman (and don't we all put ourselves second waaay too often?). She takes her initiative through a secret exchange of technology with her alien counterpart--a female who understands the priorities one should put on making oneself happy. ;)

So here's the question to ponder this lovely, sunny morning (for me, anyway) - what's your limit? What's on the edge of your envelope to push? Give me one thing you've always thought about, never tried, but would if you had the chance, and you'll be entered to win an indulgent little body treat!

Morning After ~ Xandra Gregory & Angeline Bright

Alien Communion
by Xandra Gregory

&

Ancient Yearnings
by Angeline Bright

Robot SEx winner...

!!!!!Deborah Chan!!!!!

Congratulations!

Email me at bookmom31 @ gmail.com
with your choice of LSB ebook download!

The Unheroic Hero

SEx ... Silver Expressions
I was thinking last night about some of the things that a hero could do that takes away from his "heroic" status. I've come up with a few, but I invite you to add your own suggestions. Personally, the following would be enough to make me hate a hero:
1. Farting -- yeah, I know it's part of nature, but it's one of those things you don't want to think about
2. Picking his nose -- unless he's two, it isn't cute
3. Scratching his privates -- again, something that should be done in private or is better not printed
4. Stinky feet -- one of those things you'd simply rather not know
5. Unable to get it up, especially for the heroine. I know this is one of those things that many men deal with, but a writer can handle it creatively to make him still seem like a hero despite the little problem.
6. Pooping or peeing -- I think this ranks right up there with farting.
7. Whining. Everyone has a right to his own feelings, but nobody likes a whiner. However, I know I'm guilty of this offense from time-to-time.
8. Sexual Harrassment. Sexual tension is something that needs to be woven correctly. While a good story often involves the hero making unwanted sexual advances, it shouldn't be to the point that the heroine feels threatened by them.
9. A hairy back -- again, I know many men have hair on their backs. And yes, some women aren't bothered by it. However, if you can braid it, perhaps it's better not mentioned.
10. Bigger breasts than the heroine -- in the real world, this is probably common. However, in a romance novel, you want to be able to escape into a fantasy world.

Now, what do you find unheroic?
Erin Katz

Future sex: gizmos, robots - Article from Reuters.com

By Adam Tanner

SAN FRANCISCO (Reuters) - When America's top sex researchers gathered recently to discuss the next decade in their field, some envisioned a future in which artificial sex partners could cater to every fantasy.

"What is very likely to be present before 2016 would be a multi-sensual experience of virtual sex," said Julia Heiman, director of the Kinsey Institute for Research in Sex, Gender and Reproduction at Indiana University, Bloomington.

"There is a possibility of developing erotic materials for yourself that would allow you to create a partner of certain dimensions and qualities, the partner saying certain things in that interaction, certain things happening in that interaction."

A field dubbed "teledildonics" already allows people at two remote computers to manipulate electronic devices such as a vibrator at the other end for sexual purposes.

"People who use it are just blown away," said Steve Rhodes, president of Sinulate Entertainment, which has sold thousands of Internet-connected sex devices over the past three years. "This is not something that just the lunatic fringe does."

"The Iraq war...was kind of a boom for our company."

Gina Lynn, who writes the "Sex Drive" column for Wired magazine, says she has used and enjoyed the Sinulator and says there is no reason to fear the technology.

"People are still really afraid of...any sort of combination of sex and technology and of the Internet," she said. "What people are missing here is the point, which is the human connection that we are facilitating through the technology."

"No one who is even inventing this stuff wants or even thinks that technology could ever replace human connection or sex."

Annie Sprinkle, a former adult film actress, prostitute and author of "Spectacular Sex," said teledildonics are a logical outgrowth of improvements in pleasure devices.

"Now people use vibrators like mad and rightly so; the technology of sex toys has vastly improved," she said. "The more options the better; I mean it can never replace body to body."

"Some people will love it more than anything else and others won't be into it."


What do you think? We already use battery operated toys for pleasure, so why not move on to the full thing right? Wrong?


Everyone who comments will be entered to win a free download from Liquid Silver, yes, even authors!

Sex Toys: Breasts' Winner

Because she made me snort my Pepsi, Blackroze is the winner of the download of her choice.

E-mail me at raemorgan@worldnet.att.net and let me know what book you wish to claim as your prize and the format (PDF, HTML, or MSLit).

The image of someone lifting their breasts from their knees to clamp them is now etched on my brain. LOL

Rae Morgan aka Dr. Rae

Sex Toys: Breasts

Breasts. Nipples. The evolutionary uses (for those of you who believe in evolution) were to produce and deliver mother's milk to her babies - - thus providing the mother’s immunities and nourishment until the wee one's immune systems matured and his teeth came in so that he could chew like the rest of the human race. But that was then – you know, back in the days when plastic bottles with disposable plastic bags, silicon (less allergic reactions than rubber) nipples, and baby formula didn’t exist.

Now-a-days, you say the word "breasts" and pictures of Pamela Anderson’s enhanced mammaries come to mind. They don’t? Maybe I should qualify that and say in most male minds they do. Truly! Trust me, have I lied to you yet in my blogs?

Let’s face it, men like breasts as much as or more than babies do. Many men don’t really care if they are real or fake. Just ask them. They see breasts, and their lower brains perk up and sexual thoughts proceed to dominate their higher brains.

And just what kind of thoughts?

Well, not being male, I had to ask. Inquiring minds and all that. And the reply (okay, I only was brave enough to ask my better half– so shoot me) was not really all that surprising. When a man sees breasts, he thinks about getting his hands - - and his mouth - - on them and playing with them. And if the man is any good, both parties fully enjoy the process.

So, what does all this have to do with sex toys, you ask?

Nothing much, but I needed a segue into the discussion of other ways couples can stimulate the breasts besides the old-fashioned and nature-given options of fingers, hands, mouth, and, yes, teeth.
Many women find that they need extra breast stimulation to enhance their sexual excitement. A little harder pinch. Some stronger suction. An occasional tug. Maybe even an even harder pinch or tug.

That’s where nipple toys, more specifically, clamps and suction devices come in.

Ouch, you say?

Yes, nipple play using toys can be painful - - or it can be highly stimulating in a good way. It all depends upon the tolerance of the individual woman and proper timing.

There are three basic kinds of clamps. For this discussion we will assume the woman does not have breast piercings which is a whole ‘nother bag of worms. Trust me. Dr. Rae is a coward when it comes to needles and not even for her fans would she get her breasts pierced to report on the sensations that adds to sexual play. Maybe some of you with breast piercings could chime in and share with the rest of us.

The first kind of clamp is the adjustable nipple clamp. This is a good one to begin with since the adjustments (done by tightening and loosening the little screw) can go from a little pinch to a big ouch. The clamps themselves are made of metal (sometimes plastic but those break more easily). The metal have a little bit of weight that adds to the noticeability factor. The tips are covered in a rubberlike material so that the metal of the clamp does not abrade the tender nipple tissue. Many clamps of this variety are connected by a chain. The chain is so that your partner can give a little tug to the nipples as you become more aroused - - and, I suspect, because it looks kinky.

Safety tip: Avoid excessive tugging on the nipple. Even though nipples are pretty tough little mothers, a tissue tear can happen.

Safety tip: When adjusting the screw, remember, righty tighty, lefty loosey.

Adjustable clamps are also sold in pairs without chains and often have places to attach weights or decorative items to the bottom. Adding weight enters the realm of riskiness since you could tear the underlying breast tissue. But then again, babies (and sex partners) often tug the nipples extremely hard – and it takes a lot to pull the nipples away from the underlying support. Just be aware, it can happen, if you decide to add weight to the clamps. If you are more into the look of the clamp, add a string of colorful beads and bells – more playful and less wear and tear on the nipple.

The second kind of clamp, a tweezer clamp, is a tad more punishing. It also can be adjusted by sliding a small metal ring up and down the long tweezerlike clamps, but because the gripping end of the clamp is smaller, even a little pressure goes a long, long way.

Dr. Rae likes these clamps because they stay on the nipple better, but urges that you not leave them, or any clamp for that matter, on for very long. The small area that they clamp becomes even more highly sensitized and removal should only be done during the heights of orgiastic ecstasy or you might be screaming more in pain than in pleasure.

Safety Tip: Clamps are not meant to be worn for great lengths of time since they shut off the blood circulation to the nipple. Ten to fifteen minutes is more than enough -- so remember the timing issues when applying them.

The third kind of clamp, the Japanese clover clamp, is an extremely wicked device and should only be attempted if (1) you like pain and (2) you really, really like pain, and (3) you really, really, REALLY like pain.

Yes, they look harmless, and at first they feel like an adjustable clamp, only harder, but when tugged or shifted at all, well, let’s just say screaming is a word that comes to mind – or in my case, four-letter words.

Safety tip: Avoid this clamp unless you are a pain slut.

Those are the main types of clamps; there are others but they are not prevalent enough to be mentioned here or are just variations of the above three.

If pain is not your deal, but you like the look of something on the nipple and you don’t want to do something permanent such as a piercing, try a nipple enhancer.

One really sexy little number provides the look of a nipple guard without the holes. Remember Janet Jackson’s costume mishap at the Super Bowl? Yep, her gold nipple guard and piercing were televised to millions of people. Sales of non-piercing nipple jewelry soared after her exposure. There are many types of non-piercing nipple jewelry available on-line. Just type the words into your search vehicle. I believe even eBay has a section of them; they seem to have sections on everything else under the sun.

One last type of breast play that I will mention is suction. Women know it is pleasurable to have their nipples sucked. Suction promotes blood engorgement of the nipple and thus enhances both pleasurable and painful sensations. There are all sorts of really expensive pieces of equipment such as breast pumps, Chinese medical cupping sets and the like, but the cheapest way to use suction other than your partner’s lips is the good old-fashioned suction cups from a snake bite kit. Just go into your local hunting and camping store and buy a kit. Easy to find. Inexpensive. Not at all embarrassing to purchase unless you blurt out what you are going to use them for. And handy if you ever do go camping in snake country.

Sex toys for nipple play are another form of foreplay. They might not be for everyone, but you’ll never know unless you give them a whirl.

Share your experiences with nipple play – or nipple piercings – and I’ll choose one of the entries to win a free download of any one LSB book.

As always, play safely and sanely - -

Dr. Rae

Cruising winner!

Estella, come on down! You are the winner of the cruising giveaway. E-mail me at cowgirlbeth@gmail.com with your snail mail address and I'll get your goodies out to you. Thanks to everyone that posted!!

Confessions of a Cruiser

Hey y'all! Beth Williamson here!

So I went on a cruise last week. A seven day cruise to the Carribbean on a ship that looked a bit like this one.

I had only been on a cruise once in 1998 and it was only three days and I was there for business. This was my first real "vacation" on a cruise. Oh, and yes, I did bring DH and my kids.

Hey, no screeching! My kids are 10 and 14 - old enough to have fun without having to take constant care of them. Feel sorry for the woman who thought it was a good idea to bring a newborn and her two year old on board. *shudder*

So after an inauspicious start at a hotel which we nicknamed "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles" (warning! don't ever stay at the Best Western Airport in Charleston SC), we got on board the ship.

I could feel the relaxation seeping through my body even as DH tensed up, waiting for the motion sickness to hit. We stood up on deck and waited to depart, watching the dolphins frolic in the water. They were waiting patiently too. The horn blasted - nearly scaring the hair off my head - and we were off! Sloooooowly of course. It is like a 1M pound ship!

DH is like "yeah, I'm fine. no problem." Until we went below deck while the ship was moving. I rarely see him run so fast, but he was booking down that hallway. Sigh... poor guy. He stayed in the cabin on the bed while the boys and I went back up top to explore.

I wanted to give you my impressions of why people cruise.

1. Vacation - that would be our reason. Ya know, no cooking, cleaning, errands, etc.

2. To show off their tits - really. I swear to God there had to be two hundred pairs of artificially augmented tits on that ship. They wore bikinis constantly. DH and my 14 YO nearly gave themselves a broken neck watching those bobbers.

3. To drink themselves into a stupor - a popular reason. These are the people who have a $2,000 bar bill when they leave the ship because they had $6 to $10 drinks all day every day. Hell, they even go around and serve morning drinks like Bloody Marys and Mimosas by the pool!

4. To gamble - you wouldn't think this is a popular reason, but it is. They had a purty nice casino on board. I could totally get addicted to slot machines. I think I won about $500, then lost probably $340 of it. LOL! But they had not only slots, but blackjack, craps, roullette, and poker.

The cruise was smooth sailing (so to speak) with our shore excursions in Grand Cayman, Cozumel, and Key West. I got two nicely shaped spots on the back of my shoulders in bright red when the 14 YO didn't put sunblock on them in Grand Cayman. But I also got to swim with wild stingrays. Cozumel brought a rash to my poor 10 YO after he spent hours in a pool at Playa Mia, but DH and the 14 YO went scuba diving and had a marvelous time. Key West? Wellllll, if you've ever been there, you know what it's like. I don't dig the whole chicken thing. There are wild chickens all over the island and you can be fined $250 if you kill them. Geez, spend $50 in the restaurant and have a chicken or two on the floor by your feet as you eat. Um... no.

The real excitement came on the last day at sea.... 7:45 am... what happened? Oh, the engines decided to stop working, then the generators did. That means no water, no electricity and worst of all NO TOILET FLUSHING. It runs on a vacuum system which is of course electric powered - OMG - you never smelled something so gross. So we are bobbing like a stinky cork in the Atlantic.

Oh yeah, it sure did happen! Three hours we struggled to avoid the bathrooms, find water, and some kind of food. To their credit, they broke out the $4 bottles of Evian to give us water, and any food they could find that didn't need to be cooked (fruit, cereal, muffins). The coffee they brewed must have been done in someone's hat... or sock. It tasted like mud.

Somehow they fixed the engines and we got air conditioning back (damn I was hot), water, and flushed all the toilets. Thank Gawd!

All in all, it was a good trip and I'm glad I went. So, all you cruisers out there... what's the most fun, strangest, or outrageous thing you've seen/done on a cruise ship? Anybody that posts gets entered in a drawing for a western book thong and a way cool bookmark (think sexy cowboy).

Ready, set, confess!!

Incubus Tales blog winner!

Billie! You're the winner of the day! Please let me know which LSB title you'd like and I'll see that it's shipped to you in whichever format you desire.

Thanks for playing with me today. I'm still open to mail out bookmarkers! Send your snail-mail address with your request to: darragha @ gmail. com (no spaces).

--Darragha



PS The Ancient Mariner says "gang warily when summoning passion with a novel by Darragha..."

Yes, Virginia, there is an Incubus

Virginia went straightaway to Mass. A lengthy dirge in Latin and without hymns, she thought she might suffocate and die before making her way to confession. The heady aroma of the insence left her feeling stunned and out-of-sorts. The throbbing between her legs ached for mercy--and further relief.

She pulled her lace veil farther over her face and entered the booth. "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been ten days since my last confession." She blathered on, the priest grunting softly his concern as he listened. "And then when the groom kissed my throat I thought I might swoon. That night I dreamed of being taken by a he-demon who rode in on a stallion. I could not tell if it was the he-demond or the stallion that took indecent liberties with my body. I believe it was a cominbation of the two. Dreams can be so odd. And Father, I enjoyed the relations. I awoke in a state of self-abuse that I have never before experienced."

The priest cleared his throat. Virginia heard the movement of fabric from behind the lattice work of the confessional. "My child, you have been plagued by a sexual demon . By an Incubus. You must pray hard. You must defeat the urges the Incubus implants in your young soul. Pray this way: I command you spirits of Incubus and Succubus to stop harassing me. I belive that Jesus is Lord over you and has dominion over you. He obtained his authority over you when he died on the cross for my sins and when he rose again on the third day. And He is now seated at the right hand of the Father, daily making interssion for me. I believe it and I plead his blood over my life, my home,my body, soul and spirit right now. You have no authority over me anymore,my life is Christ's. Amen. Child...demons don't want to go easily but they must when rebuked in the name of God."

"Thank you, Father. Will this prayer work with Italians, too?"

Night Lovers

The of-age daughter of a wealthy merchant has borrowed a book from her father's groom. She likes horses. She'd like to ride more often, and not side saddle. She watches the stableboys and groomers work with her father's horses almost every day. It's not very lady-like to watch, however. Her mother says it makes her appear "eager." Eager isn't the word for it. She wants to jump onto a horse bare-back and ride like the wind. With the dark Italian groom who loaned her the book. He's very risque. He knows she watches him, so he does things. He blows her kisses. He brushes up against her in passing. She is quite smitten. And then he gave her the book. Dirty stories. It's a book of dirty stories were women remove all their clothing when in the company of their husbands and wherein they even have illicit relations with other women who are their friends. Something odd stirred in her when she read the book. She was both terrified and titillated. The thought of having another woman kiss her bosom or of parading about in the nude before a group of men...scandelous. Interesting. And it made her want to get to know the Italian even more.

"I've come to return your book, sir," she called into the stable. She knew he was alone. She'd been watching. The stableboys were out in the pasture.

"Ah, what did you learn, my little one?" he asked from behind. He'd seen her coming. He slipped his arms most innapropriately around her waist from behind.

"This book contains items of information which are best left explored only between a husband and wife," she replied.

"Do you not think that a man and a woman who are not wed cannot experience these things?" the Italian asked. He kissed the nape of her neck. "Virginia, my fresh little flower--let me come to you tonight and I shall help you understand the meaning of these things."

"And spoil me?" she asked.

"No, no, no. There is no spoiling of my little virgin tonight. I can show you things that will leave your sacred maidenhead intact and still give you exactly what you need to make it another few years in this house."

Virginia turned. "I'll leave my door unlocked."

The Italian groom smiled. "I anticipate you." He removed the book from her hand and trailed it across the modest, heavily startched blouse covering her bosom. Virginia felt her nipples harden as if she were out on a snowy day.

She took special care to comb out her long light brown hair that night before crawling into bed. She wore a new nightgown, and God forgive her, she did not were her long pantalettes under it. There seemed to be a very exciting and strange tightening in her private regions and her breasts seemed swollen--and she could not quit playing the moment when the groom kissed her neck in her mind. Over and over. His hot lips against her cool flesh. If only he would kiss her lips and other places...

She fell asleep waiting for him. Her dreams were savage, frightening--sexually stirring and full of images of stallions and mares breeding. She knew she was having a nightmare--but could not awaken. Nor could she stop the surge of pleasure coursing through her body when the stallion's spirit took her.

She awoke drenched in sweat and feeling quite uncomfortable in her private regions. Then she realized...her own fingers were intertwined in those profane places...she had sinned a great sin in the night. She needed to make confession. But how do you tell a priest you have experienced an erotic nightmare and masturbated in your sleep?

Of course...you blame it on a demon. An Incubus. She would be forgiven, and if she was lucky, she'd be forgiven over and over...as she hoped her Night Lover would return...soon. Perhaps a nap after lunch would be a good idea.



Would you? Or wouldn't you? Kash wants to know. Cold, Hard Kash. Summon passion.

Share your comments with me today (about my impromtu incubus story) or otherwise, and you'll get a prize! Every blogger will receive a bookmarker (or two!) and one winner will get her choice of LSB book!

8 Men and Little Ol' Me

"You need to get outside your comfort zone," my best pal, Kate said a few weeks ago. "Meet people. No online dating."

Me: "But I'm good online. I am awesome at emailing."

Her: "I know but are you meeting anyone? In person?"

Me: "Well..."

Her: "In the same country."

Me: "No."

So with my trusty sidekick on the other end of the phone I zipped over to a local website and signed up for speed dating. Shortly after giving my credit card number this was my thought "What the hell did I just do?"

I just stepped outside the comfort zone and I am here to tell you...I survived.

Yes, I survived. And you, my lovelies, get to hear aaaall about it. Because right after I signed up, I said to Kate: "Well, if nothing else, I have blog material."

And yes. Yes. I do.

First: the bar. It was not a dive but neither was it classy. Kind of a "we're going for the sexy look but we had no money." It was wrongly named. Plush? What the hell was plush about it? The circular booths? The gauzy curtains that surrounded every booth? The freaking uncomfortable couches that are low...to match the low tables? Or the stools all the men kept falling off of? Sexy indeed.

Second: the woman. They were fun! I'd so hang with them. Turns out one of the gals also went with the same matchmaker I did a few years ago and...she got the same doozy as me. Sweet.

Third: the victims. I mean...the men. Ah yes...eight (two chickened out...cowards!) guys of varying personalities.

Victim #1: The ME Guy

You know the one. I did this. I took a cruise for 7 days. It was amazing. I never had so much fun. I just got back from Victoria where I golfed. Wow. Is it green out there. I haven't golfed like that in a long time. I am in investment banking for one of the biggest banks out there.Oh, not in Canada but the rest of the world.

Tip: When you're out to me girls, ME Guy. Ask the woman something. Anything. Don't leave me sitting there mentally jabbing my eye out with the pen. B-bye. Thanks for coming.

Victim #2: Silent Sam

And I don't mean the vodka. As soon as he walked up I knew it was going to hurt. Now, I'm a shy girl but if I'm with a talker, I discovered I'll talk. This guy sat down, rubbed his thighs, cleared his throat and mumbled "Hi."

Me: "Hi." All perky and everything (plus I was smokin' hot in my new jeans. Oooh baby. Yeah.)

Silent. Silent. Me: "So, what do you do?"

Him: Silent. "I, uh," Yesss?

It was the longest 8 minutes of my life. I kept looking at the hostess to hope she would clink the glass so Silent Sam could go make someone else's evening painful. He was sweet but come on...you're here to meet people. Open your mouth!! I did. *coughs, looks around innocently. What?* That would be a ... no in Silent Sam's box.

Victim #3: Potential Stalker

Sweet. Well, first I heard all about his family. Uh. Yeah. Okay. And how he's traveled the world. Uh. Yeah. Okay. Then I heard about how he looooves England (what are you doing in Canada, dude?) and it's his favorite place on the earth. I heard about how he's an engineer. I heard about this. I heard about that. Then...I learned he lives in the same condo complex as me. Sweet. "We'll hit it off," he said. "We should meet up again."

Me: quietly freaking the hell out. "Uh. Yeah." Hunches over her input card NO!!!! with the note of MOVE in my own notes.

Victim #4: Cutie Patootie

Seriously. I could have just gobbled him up. The 8 minutes flew (curses) and wow...same interests. Yes.

Victim #5: Too Cool For School

Kill. Me. Now. The man did not stop to breath. At all. And if I heard "Makes a note of that" one more time I was going to kill him Riddick style: my cup in his chest. I heard about this new fad diet he's on. Oh he jumps out of planes for fun. Oh yeah, you are so cool. NO.

Victim #6: The Actor

There must always be an actor, right? Well...he made me laugh. Sarcastic. And then the killer: "Yeah, I just got a $5,000 raise which puts me over the $100,000 mark." Me: blink, blink, blink. (Note: not in acting). "Uh. Yeah." NO. Sorry, honey, but you killed it right there. Oy.

Victim #7: The forgotten one.

Who? What? As soon as he left the table everything he said...vanished. Gone. Poof. Who? What was your name? What did you just say? NO

Victim #8: The Charmer

Okay. British Charm rocks. That's all I gotta say. Mr. Charming slipped onto the couch, without falling I might add, "Looks like I saved the best for last." Jenna's eyebrows climb up. Niiiice line. Mentally scribbles "Dude...you're how old?" in her head starting to scratch him out. Only...not really. Funny guy. Entertaining. A little older than I want but whatever. Said yes. Enh. Screw it.

The food they promised was crap. Yes, I told the restaurant manager that, look at Jenna go!."Greasy wings and ribs...no. They were just too..." "Greasy?" I nodded. He sighed. "It's hard to find non-greasy appetizers." Yeah. No kidding but, dude, try. The break was the funnest part. Well, and afterwards. Because then you could mingle. Girls AND boys. At the end I hadn't laughed like that it in awhile. Some still hadn't filled out their cards and man alive the competition came out then. Cutie Patootie fetched food. Offered to feed the Actor the scallops that he was allergic to thereby ridding himself of the competition. I have a feeling Cutie Patootie got 8 yeses on his dance card.

Did Jenna? Enh. Whatever. I think Potential Stalker did. Sweet. And Silent Sam. Sweet. But not one guy didn't leave my table without laughing at least once. Who had more fun than my table? Hah! No one. No one!!

In truth the evening was an eye opener for me...I stepped outside my comfort zone. Hell, I met 8 nice guys (stalker/bragging/shyness aside), had free drinks and had a good time. On my own. No wing women at my side. Just me. The nerves vanished after Silent Sam because at least I wasn't that shy. Plus the break helped me relax where everyone jokes around on food and booze and we curvy girls made fun of the twiglike bartender. It's all good.

And if nothing else I discovered that (a) I can carry on a conversation with an utter stranger (did you see that Babe? I'm soooo ready. Bring it) (b) my comfort zone is what I make it - I referred to my booth as my kingdom and by the end of the night it was. Princess Flirty Jenna if you please (c) I'll go again (d) I'm not as shy as I think I am and (e) I'm not so freakin' scared about my set-up next week. Actually I'm really looking forward to it now where as I was freaking out before. I'll still be nervous, still the shy girl but come on...if I can handle 8...I can handle one sexy, slightly naughty fireman...right? Right? Right?!?

Jenna;)

And Dakota's winner is....

Thank you SO much for coming to play today! Gotta love music, especially when it involves the nasty. LOLLOL

I had 37 people or so e-mail me privately to enter because they were having blog troubles--me too. Figures, eh?

Anyway, I just wanted you all to know I entered ya anyway:)

And the Winner is--LisaT!!!!

Congrats and if you e-mail me, I'd be happy to send you your gift cert for Godiva and a little something extra for just poppin' in :)

Contact me at Dakota @ dakotacassidy.com (with out the spaces) and congratulations again!

Until next time.
Hugs all 'round,
Dakota :)

Sing, sing a song

Hellllllllllllllllllllloooooooooooooooooooooooo, LSB readers! It's me, Dakota Cassidy and I'm back to thrill, titillate, tempt, oh, okay, TAUNT you.

LOLI'm kidding. I would NEVER taunt you.

Today's blog is easy cheesy Japaneesie--all ya gotta do is tell me what your favorite song to boink to is. That's IT. No big deal and if you don't have one, you can make one up. I won't know and if I don't know, I can't call you a fibber. LOLLOL.

Anyway, here's my point--Everybody always says Sexual Healing, by Marvin Gay or Barry White's, It's Ecstasy When You Lay Down Next to Me are all time boinking favorites. However, I thought I might talk about the songs you DON'T want playing in the background when you're making whoopie or the songs that make you cringe when you hear them because you had too much to drin--er, a minor indiscretion and the song will forever be a painful reminder of your "Oh, no, I did not!?"

For example--Meatloaf's Paradise By The Dashboard Light--K, I dunno 'bout you, but boinking in the car brings to mind sticky leather seats and the cheap, residual smell of your dates idea of dinner out--A Happy Meal you had to split cuz he was low on cash, ya feel me? There is no Paradise by the dashboard to be found if it's in a parking lot at the Motel Six. However, look on the bright side. If you had Two out of Three--it ain't bad. LOL

Another Meatloaf winner is, I Would Do Anything, But I won't Do That. Um, if he won't do that--then, you don't "do that", got that? LOLLOL

AC DC's What Do Ya Do For Money, Honey? The proper non-alcoholic response? Not you, honey :)

And more AC DC, Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap--You'd better have gotten more than a meal that followed the question "Would you like that supersized?" outta this, young lady or we have to talk.

Help by the Beatles--If he's asks for help--you need to Let it Be :)

Like a Virgin, by Madonna. Er, look, if you hooked up with a virgin, what were ya thinkin'? This ain't day care, already...so you need to split and go to the big-girl playground or you're officially Borderline psych ward material. Cuz he is too young to be Crazy For You. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Love Stinks, by the J. Geils Band is a prime example of an unwise choice in attitude for a bedmate, yes? You might end up a Centerfold all over the Internet, if you're not careful.

Like a Prayer (Oh, that Madonna)--sigh--if he's prayin', you shouldn't be layin'. LMAO

If you're hoping for an orgasm and he tells you to Dream On, like Areosmith sings, uh, I think you made a mistake. LOLLOL. There is no Sweet Emotion to be had there and do remind him, Jaynie's Got a Gun...she can hurt him and he won't ever Walk This Way again :)

Here's one to really avoid, like the plague--Julio Iglesias' To All the Girls I've Loved Before--or you may leave with the plague. Plus, he sings that with a guy who has pigtails, for crap's sake...LOLLOL (sorry Willie).

Phillip Bailey and Phil Collins sang Easy Lover --if you were rippin' yer panties off before he even bought ya dinner--this applies to you. Have you learned nothing? This isn't some Groovy Kind Of Love, silly. If I were you, I'd say, "Take Me Home."

How about some country music--one of my favs :)

Kenney Chesney's She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy--Look, what the H-E double hockey sticks are you doing on a tractor? Naked, no less? This implies yer out in a field somewhere, behaving badly in a public row of corn in like Idaho, not to mention, you could easily get tics and hay fever or something. That ain't sexy LOL

How about Two Pina Colada's? By Garth Brooks. You know, the two you drank before you lost count of them and ended up spending the night with some greasy loser because in your drunken haze, his hair reminded you of Brad Pitts? LOLLOL

Here's another big Garth Brooks no-no--Ain't Goin' Down Before the Sun Comes Up--k, if I have to explain this to you--I can't help you on ANY level. LOLLOL. All I know is this, if I can't hear Thunder Rolls, I cannot be Friends in Low Places (dayum, count that--three--yes, THREE songs in a row. LOLLOL. wait, it gets better).

If you're Prayin' For Daylight (Rascal Flatts), well, then--again, I say, see self explanatory, cuz I'm Movin' On.

What if he calls you, Delilah (big, dreamy sigh...Tom Jones) and you're name is Tallulah? Well, they DO rhyme, yes? You need to ditch this zero and hit the Green, Green Grass of Home :)

Now, on the other hand, if he calls you My Kind of Lover, and offers to do The Stroke, with Two Tickets to Paradise as a reward--You're Leavin' on a Jetplane to Kokomo, baby. Cuz Love Is In The Air. I'll put you on the plane myself. (Billy Squire, Eddie Money the Beach Boys, John Paul Young and Peter, Paul and Mary whew!) Congrats, you've found you're One In A Million, and if you get lucky, you could be Goin' To The Chapel! (Larry Graham and the Dixie Cups)

Now, all you have to do is this--post your favorite mattress stomping song here in the comments section and you're in. I'll throw your name in a hat and you're eligible for a random drawing for some Chocolate from Godiva to be announced tonight at 9:00 EST :)

That's IT. So c'mon out and say hello to me. Don't be shy--I want to hear what ya like to listen to when you say to your honey, "Let's make nookie, cookie!"

Until next time--hugs and many thanks for all of your support,

Dakota :)

Under a Rogue Moon - Winner

And the winner is...Jackie Abbott!

Thank you to everyone for all of your support today! You've made this a phenomenal experience for me, and now I can't wait for another book to come out, lol.

Excerpt from "Under a Rogue Moon"

OK, I fibbed. I said in my previous post that I'd be posting a short excerpt from the beginning of chapter three, but it dawned on me that that same excerpt was going to be available in an upcoming LSB newsletter (or the new one, I forget which). So I've chosen something else instead.

In the scene that follows, Jason has shown up in England and announced that Flanna's in danger. Her father has decided, after checking out Jason's credentials, that he will stay with them until the threat is past. Here, Flanna takes him back to her house to show him around a little.

****

With his new Nissan parked in the drive, the house looked older somehow, more worn around the eaves. Flanna saw the way he looked at everything, not missing a single detail, and yet, Jason never commented on the property, choosing instead to continue with his light gibes that kept her slightly on edge. She took him around the side of the house and showed him the range she used for shooting practice, and then trekked further onto the grounds to take him to the old barn that had been converted into her training room.

“Nice,” he said, standing in the doorway.

The entire space was devoted to the hunt, whether it was weapons preparation or fitness-related. Her father did all his metalworks in the far corner, and most of his silvers were arrayed along the wall behind it, sparking against the aged brick. There was a boxing ring in the opposite corner, and various ropes and punching bags were scattered throughout the barn, giving Flanna ample opportunity to hone any one of her skills.

She watched Jason carefully, trying to best gauge his reaction. He sounded like he meant it, but she got the distinct impression that he was used to more affluent ventures. He probably saw their whole set-up as antiquated, but then again, he hadn’t made a joke about the space either. Knowing what she knew of him already, that said a lot.

“Did your father train you?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “He picked this house especially because it had the barn he could use for his weapons and the like. What about you? Is hunting a family thing for you, too?”

Jason chuckled. “Only if it’s got money at the end of the trail.” He was suddenly standing right in front of her, blocking the way out of the barn. “I’ve gotta ask because I’m dying to know, and it’s probably going to make things worse, but what the hell. Why is it you don’t like me?”

Nobody could leave her speechless quite like Jason Randolph. Her mouth opened, closed, opened again as her mind searched desperately for some kind of response that didn’t make her sound even more foolish than she already felt. In the end, the best she the best she could manage was, “Excuse me?”

“It’s not that that’s not OK,” he went on. His eyes were twinkling, and his mouth was twisted into a half-smile, but underlying his joviality was a note of disappointment. “It’s just ... well, that’s kind of a new one for me. I mean, people don’t usually start disliking me until they’ve had a chance to really get to know what a jerk I can be, and I haven’t been around here long enough for that to happen with you. So, I’m asking. What is it about me that rubs you the wrong way? My devilish good looks, or my sparkling personality maybe?”

The question bothered her. Not because he was asking, but because she suddenly felt like she’d been caught out on something, a child with a shameful secret forced to share it when she really didn’t want to. Her cheeks blazed in embarrassment, and her hair seemed suddenly too heavy down her back. But Jason wasn’t moving from her path. If she wanted to get by him, she would have to resort to being physical, and that would just be wrong on far too many levels. She didn’t have much of a choice but to give him some kind of answer.

“You joke too much,” she said bluntly.

His head cocked in amusement, his eyes narrowing slightly as they regarded her. “So ... you have a phobia for funny?”

Her flush deepened. “I just don’t think it’s always appropriate,” Flanna said. “You make light of things that I wouldn’t. What we do ... it’s serious business, and it looks like you treat it like it’s not. I don’t care if my father or Guillaume or Tony Blair himself thinks you’re God’s gift, but I think you’re going to get yourself killed. And ... enough people die already.”

“What you’re saying, then, is that you’d miss me if I wasn’t around.”

“What? No! Stop twisting my words!” Whirling away, Flanna began to pace the length of the wall, doing everything she could to keep from looking at him. “This is exactly why I don’t like you. You always say just the wrong thing, and it’s ... it’s...”

“Sexy as hell?”

“Infuriating!”

She hadn’t realized she was moving so close to him until his hand shot out and curled around her bicep, forcing her to a halt.

“You accused me last night of being emotionally invested in getting Romm,” he said. Something dark flickered behind his eyes. “You were right. But if I went at all this with the same seriousness you do, I would’ve slit my wrists a long time ago. This is who I am, Flanna. This is how I don’t explode.” He paused, and she felt the slightest of caresses along her arm where his thumb began to stroke it. “Kind of like how you go to places like Rage.”

Her skin was burning beneath her sleeve where he was touching her, and her throat was dry, refusing to work properly in the face of his casual reference to her night in New York. “You don’t know anything about why I went there,” she whispered.

Jason shook his head, the strokes along her bicep growing stronger in tiny, almost imperceptible fractions. “I think I know a lot more than you’re willing to admit.”

****

Remember, anybody who posts a comment on this or my previous entry will be eligible for the drawing for a free copy. :)

Under a Rogue Moon

When I start writing a story, I know two things. I know my ending, and I know I'm going to miss it when it's gone. There's no thought about what's going to happen to it, whether I'll get to share it with others or not. I live in a fervor for the weeks it takes to get it out of my head and onto my laptop, and then when I type The End, I push my chair back and wish it didn't have to end.

But it doesn't always have to end. Not for my newest story, Under a Rogue Moon. Because I've been so very fortunate to be able to work with Liquid Silver in bringing it to others who might choose to walk in the world I did. It's the world of demonhunter Flanna McRae, a schism of training and preparation in her quiet English home and a week out of every month where she goes on the prowl for werewolves. Under a Rogue Moon begins at the end of a disastrous hunt for Flanna, where one of a pack she is hunting escapes. She returns to her normal life, unknowing that she has now been targeted by the last remaining werewolf. It takes the arrival of another demonhunter, Jason Randolph, for Flanna to learn the truth. The relationship that develops between Jason and Flanna is heated, to say the least, but as a lot of my stories tend to be, their love story is wrapped tightly with the action going on around them.

The excerpt available on the website is chapter one of the book. Later this morning, I'm going to post another excerpt from the beginning of chapter three. To celebrate my first LSB release, I'll be giving away a free copy of Under a Rogue Moon. All you have to do is leave a comment on either this post or the excerpt, and at the end of the day, I'll pick one lucky winner at random. :)

So, Just How Did You Become An Erotic Romance Writer?

This is my first blog so if I goof it up, please be gentle and don’t tell me.

I had dinner with a few writer friends last night to celebrate the release of Betrayed and the pending launch of my website.

Betrayed is my first foray into erotic romance and the question of “why did you write this book” came up.

Well, two of my good buddies write wonderful erotic romances and basically, dared me to try my hand at it. Start with a novella. It’s only 25,000 words.

Sure, I could do that. I could write an erotic romance novella. NOT! I can’t do anything short. I can’t even say “Hello” in less than a thousand words. But maybe I could write an erotic romance novel.

I started plotting it out as kind of a lark but then something incredibly strange happened. Princess Arrianna came to life and that alpha-male war lord, André de le Monte, became larger than life.

The story took off on its own. I was the classic picture of the obsessed writer who couldn’t stop. Very Joan Wilder-ish in “Romancing the Stone.” I survived on coffee and Diet Coke, my family had to scale huge mountains of rubble to get about the house, and Tony’s Pizzeria delivered here so frequently, Tony kept his spare truck in our garage.

I lived and breathed Bethany, Le Monte and the Middle Kingdoms. As I typed, characters refused to stick with the plot. They had better things to do, and they knew what they wanted. I was merely here for their convenience.

Five weeks from the day I started it, I finished the final round of editing. Never had I written so much so quickly. It was done. Arrianna and André’s story was told.

So, now what?

I stumbled out of my home office. I couldn’t seem to get enough air in my lungs. What would I do now that the chapters were completed? Now that Arrianna and André no longer needed me?

I took a quick tour of the house. Five weeks of housework piles up very high, very fast. I would need a front-loader and a dumpster to clean up this place. So I did the only thing a sensible woman could do. (Sadly, running off to the islands with Antonio Banderas was not an option.) I turned right around, headed back into the office and started my next book.


Actually, it wasn’t difficult to glue myself to my chair each day. I usually use a picture of my hero as my monitor wallpaper. Here is André. Some of you may recognize him.



Thanks for joining me on my first blogging. It was a lot of fun. I had a great time writing “Betrayed” and hope you enjoy Arrianna and André’s adventure!

Eileen Ann Brennan

Morning After ~ Eileen Ann Brennan and Vivien Dean

Betrayed
by Eileen Ann Brennan

&

Under a Rogue Moon
by Vivien Dean

The Tool Returns

So, for those of you who joined in the discussion the last time, we were discussing what to call my boyfriend / significant other / partner. I think we settled on “Tool.” It has a certain ring, and it is often true :) We are now a few months into the relationship, and things are going well.

This time the question at hand is equally as frivolous, but has all kinds of possibilities… what to do, what to do.

Tool is a great guy who definitely doesn’t need any help in the “tool” department, but every relationship can use some variety (thank you Michelle for this spin-off idea). Now, he’s a little less outgoing than I – let me just say a couple of words: Virgo and Engineer. He fits the part. So, Tool gets a little embarrassed when I bring up things that may be considered by some to be risqué… yes, we are talking about things in the Tool Department. I am the adventurous type that will try almost anything once (unless there’s a strong possibility of putting out an eye). And while there are no complaints being registered at the service desk at my friendly hardware store, there’s always room for some good clean / dirty fun. I’ve never had a shy bone in my body (until now and I hope you all get the pun)… So, while my Romance Kit has been well stocked for years, I don’t think he’s ever had one… The first time he peered in the drawer beside my bed was the last. I thought he was going to run from the room. But to his credit, he just politely shut the drawer and turned out the light. Just the sight of the creative toys must have been enough for him – rock on, Tool!

The question: How have you introduced new bedroom toys to your timid Tools?

My favorite “hunk” is…?

Hello everyone. This is my first time blogging here at “SE x”. Please be gentle with me.

My first Liquid Silver book is scheduled to be released in late May or early June. It’s called Help! I’m Falling for the Vampire Next Door. And yes, it features a tall, dark and sexy vampire hero and a heroine who knows her way around the bedroom.

I’ve been around for a while. (I won’t say how long I’ve been around at the risk of dating myself—badly.) I’ve seen what’s popular and what’s not so popular in romantic fiction come and go—and then come around again. My basic tastes haven’t changed that much, but it seems everyone else’s have, again and again.

So, in order to find out what’s “in” and what’s “out” for today’s romantic fiction reader, I thought I'd create a poll and find out your opinions. Leave your answers as well as you explanations in the “comments” section of this blog. All set? All right let’s go.

1. My favorite romantic hunk is…

A. Tall, dark and ruggedly, “bad-boy” handsome. He’s dangerous and mysterious, but the heroine eventually tames him and makes him her own.

B. Fair, brawny, Navy SEAL-ish or cowboy-ish, possessing the physical strength of Superman on steroids. He takes no prisoners and leaves no hearts unbroken, but the heroine manages to capture his in due course.

C. Average looking, nerdy, but with a heart of gold. Although outwardly not quite as appealing as other romantic heroes, the heroine sees through this guy’s shy exterior and ultimately discovers that he’s a diamond in the rough. True love and happiness soon blossom.

D. An alien—either from outer space or from an exotic, distant land and/or time. He could be a combination of archetypes, but his alien nature pervades how he woos and makes love to the heroine. “The Sheikh meets Star Wars” would be a likely title I’d pick up.

E. Something completely different than anything listed above.


2. My favorite romantic heroine is…

A. Drop-dead, fashion model gorgeous. Her figure is perfect, her hair is perfect, her teeth are perfect and she leads the most perfect life with oodles of cash and a credit card with no limit. The hero finds her shallow and materialistic at first, but he digs deeper and uncovers her true beauty underneath all the glamour and glitz.

B. An “older woman” (over 35 years of age) who has been around the block a few time and isn’t looking for love this time out. The hero has a different idea, however, and chases this self-assured, independent gal until she succumbs to his sexy charm—both in and out of the bedroom.

C. A modern day “Cinderella”. She may possess physical beauty and intelligence, but it’s been buried beneath emotional scars of indifference or outright abuse. The hero gently woos her and brings out her inner strengths, including her latent sexuality, so at last that she becomes the woman she was meant to be.

D. A “bigger is beautiful” heroine who’s proud of her body and her sexuality. She doesn’t starve herself to look like the magazine covers, and the hero appreciates her honesty, her gusto for life and her screaming orgasms.

E. Something completely different than anything listed above



3. My favorite romantic plot is…

A. The hero swoops down off his jungle vine, white horse, flying saucer or NASCAR speedster and knocks the heroine off her feet and into his sexy, brawny arms with little resistance on her part. (She enjoys the “capture”.)

B. The hero broods about his dark, painful past while the heroine does her best to bring him out of his moods and into her arms (bedroom) where sexual healing can begin to make him whole.

C. The hero and heroine are thrown together under unusual circumstances and have to make the best of things—which ultimately leads them to discover their mutual attraction in the bedroom among other places.

D. Something completely different than anything listed above

4. My favorite romantic setting is…

A. Nowadays in the good ol’ U.S. of A. (or at least Canada, Great Britain or Australia). It’s a setting I’m familiar with, be it a small town or a mega-metropolis.

B. Long ago in a mysterious and exotic foreign land. It’s the “princess in the castle fantasy” to the extreme.

C. In the far distance future, in a far off galaxy, where human beings may be few and far between but the human traits of love and devotion still reign supreme.

D. Something completely different than anything listed above.


5. My favorite level of sensuality in romantic fiction is…

A. Sweet and traditional. If the hero and heroine share a kiss by story’s end, I’m more than happy.

B. Simmering sensuality with some consummated love scenes as the hero and heroine get to know each other better. A wedding ring makes the sex even better.

C. Sexy and sassy right out of the chute. They can’t wait to rip each other’s clothes off and get it on right then and there on the desk. Hand cuffs and vibrators work, too.

D. The more the merrier—as long as both partners are okay with it, why not bring along a few other friends to join in the fun?

E. Something completely different than anything listed above.


6. My favorite length of romantic fiction read is…

A. As long and as in depth as Margaret Mitchell’s Gone With the Wind.

B. Short and sweet and sizzling—novellas are great, short stories even better.

C. Somewhere in the middle. Sometimes I enjoy reading a longer story and sometimes I enjoy reading something shorter. It depends on my mood, the story and/or the author.

D. Something completely different than anything listed above.


Okay, that’s enough for now. Be sure to share your insights in the comments box. Thanks. This “old dog” would really like to see if she needs to learn a few “new tricks” to keep up with today’s romantic fiction readers. And I give everyone an “A+” for sharing their answers!

P.S. I may post this poll around the ‘net and gather a few more responses, too. I’ll post the final, final results in my e-newsletter “Celine’s Dreams”. Sign up for it at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/celinesdreams

P.P.S. I don't have a contest going quite yet, but I've got some chapter excerpts I'm willing to give out to anyone who'd care for them. Just email me at celinechatillon @hotmail.com (no spaces) and put "Chapter excerpts" in the subject line. Thanks!

Let's play...

If you wanted to look very sexy, how would you dress?

(The book of questions #161)

Winner!

Estella!!!
Not only were you the first to post but you're also the winner!
Email me at bookmom31 @ gmail.com with your choice of Liquid Silver Book!

Thanks for playing with me ladies!

What a Girl Wants

First off, let me apologize to everyone and especially Tina for being a complete and utter moron today and forgetting it was my day to blog. Well, I remembered my day was coming up, and I knew it was on the eighth, but somehow my brain decided the eighth was Tuesday and so I had a few days. ::headdesk:: I’m really, really sorry.

And I had such a great blog planned, too. Although that may have been the perfect introduction. You see, I’m not a normal girl. My brain just isn’t wired straight somehow. I hate shopping for clothes. Shoes totally disinterest me (I have three pairs: dress sandals, casual sandals and sneakers). Okay, bags, but not purses. I like big bags with lots of pockets. Lots of room to carry the things that are important to me.

My cell phone.

My PDA.

My laptop.

My other cell phone.

My MP3 player.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am a technology junkie. Best Buy is a place of worship and dread for me. If it runs on any sort of electrical current and can do something useful, I want it. And I found a doozy this week.

A little backstory. I’m currently job hunting. No, unfortunately I don’t make enough as an author to support myself and my family, so I work. Currently I’m a school bus driver, but that doesn’t pay well enough, either, so it’s back to the corporate world for me. Yes, my collection of shoes doubled when I had to buy work shoes. I try not to think about it. My best opportunity for employment is in center city Philadelphia, about an hour by train from where I live. So I was thinking about the commute, which would offer me a great time to write, and how much time it takes me to transcribe my writing every day. Caveauthor writes longhand. Yes, I do see the irony.

Enter the Alphasmart.

If you haven’t seen one of these little gadgets, you should check them out. They’re like mini-laptops, not sizewise, but capability-wise. They’re basically a keyboard with a little LED monitor that has word processing capability. I’ve seen a number of the authors in my online RWA chapter Passionate Ink rave about this, and a woman I met at EPICon also highly recommended them. They only show four lines at a time, so they are crushing to the internal editor. Now, this is not a new gadget to me. My son has one as an instructional support tool at school. They’re great. Lightweight and run for 700 hours on three AAA batteries. So, hating the thought of going back to office life and needing something to inspire me, I went to the website to check it out.

I swear, the screen glowed with a heavenly light when I got there.

They have a model that is a word processor and Palm PDA all in one. With WiFi capabilities.

Do you know what this means?

I can carry my writing on it. And all my e-books. And my calendar. And my address book. And surf the net (presumably only text based sites, but still) and chat with my friends. Philly is one of the first WiFi cities in the US, so I can find a connection just about anywhere. And it weighs two pounds and costs about as much as a low end laptop.

I want this. I want it so bad I can taste it. It’ll be worth it to wear the skirts and the pantyhose and OMG the shoes if I can just own one of these babies for my very own.

So yeah, me? Very differently normal. Apparently even my calendar is different. (Sorry again, Tina!)

FREE....

Liquid Silver Download! All you have to do is comment on
what you think should have been left alone.

Comment and you will be entered to win!

Better left alone....

I don't know about you, but aren't there some things that should have stayed in the past? Not been changed? I'm a firm believer of "If it ain't broke, don't fix it!"

So why oh why did one of my favorite bands have to switch up their tune?

Are there any Pearl Jam fans out there? I'm a bit of a rocker chic here, I like hip hop to dance to, but if I'm gonna listen to a radio station, my first choice is always the rock station. Imagine my elation the other day when I hear the radio DJ announce a new single by Pearl Jam. Yippie! Eddie Vedder's voice is one to induce shivers of lust! The way he croons his scratchy lyrics to rockin' guitar. Every time I heard PJ it would bring back memories of ski trips, "rockin' and rollin", and how much I liked the era of grunge rock.

Until last week that is.

Pearl Jam recording again = Good Idea.

Their new single, "World Wide Suicide" = Career Suicide

If you haven't heard it, and you're a Pearl Jam fan, I beg you DO NOT DOWNLOAD IT! Your ears will bleed rivers of blood and you'll want to find the shortest rope and the tallest chair. If you have heard it, I'll be sending you a sympathy card.

If you're not a Pearl Jam fan keep reading you'll have a chance to participate. :)

I read a review for the single in Entertainment Magazine and here's what they had to say...

It takes some big stones to put out a single this unconventional. Eddie Vedder's vocals are muddy, the guitars crack out basic Nuggets-style garage rock, and the lyrics are apocalyptic antiwar Bush-bashing. Not the anthem we'd hoped for, but it's got a primal punk power that gets the pulse racing. A bit. B

I think they gave them a B for effort.

What's so horrible about it, you ask? Think Nickelback's fast paced hip hop rock with Eddie's voice. The music itself is good, fast, a bit catchy, decent guitar. Add Eddie's melodic slurred vocals and it just tanks.

I'm disappointed. As a fan, severely. I'll no longer have my pleasant memories of ski trips with my man, just reminders that they produced a song bad enough to cause deafness.

What are some things you think should have been left alone?

It doesn't have to be music or a band either. Here are some other examples in my opinion...

Coke vs New Coke - what was the reason for the change again?

Burger King changing their fries - the old ones were actually potatoes, it kills me to think that McD's are better than BK's now!

Bridgestone Tire commercials - who convinced the execs of Bridgestone that turning their commercials into romance snippits was a good idea. Does the "perfect" couple dirty dancing with tires floating around the TV screen make you want to run out and buy tires?

Tell me something you think should have been left alone!

I'll pick a winner from today's posts for a free Liquid Silver download!

Winner of Seasons of Love

Thanks everybody for participating in the talk yesterday. All your answers were interesting and enlightening. Just goes to show what a big, wide world we live in with a million different shades of gray, especially in the sexual arena.

The winner of the drawing for a download of Seasons of Love was Deborah Chan. I see no email for Deborah, so hope she checks back here. If anyone is on a loop with her, let her know. Also, Deborah, let me know what format you want the book in.

Have a great day all!

The Other Side

A couple months ago I blogged about BDSM relationships, posting an interview I did with a woman living the lifestyle as a sub. Find it here: Interview with a Sub.
This month I thought I’d post the flip side interview I had with a Dom.

If a couple is in such a relationship, does it switch on and off? Do you have your 'day' personna and your 'night' personna?

Well that depends on the depth of the roles that the couple want to have. Some couples are on 24/7 in their roles. Of course there is always a certain personna that happens for the real world or "vanilla world" as we like to say. Some couples are bedroom Doms or subs. That meaning that they only get into those roles in the bedroom. It also depends if they have children present. In general though there are certain D/s public day time activities that one can do that others wouldn't even know.

When you're running a household together, what are the expectations?

Again it all depends on the level that the couple wants. Some couples follow a basic 1950's routine with the woman in charge of cleaning and being the perfect sub wife to wait on her Master 24/7. Other couples follow a more delegated routine based on their skills in finance, housekeeping, gardening and the like. In general, areas regarding the home are openly discussed like any other couple.

Say our sub woman is a high-powered attorney by day, does she become obedient the moment she enters the door at night? Or is this play only for the bedroom?

It depends on the couple, but in general the more high-powered job a person has, they generally walk in the door and become sub-serviant to relieve their stress. They no longer have to think about work or making decisions and feel thankful that their Master is doing that for them.

How does the couple carry on a regular life and a role-playing life at the same time? Or is is playing?

Many people just play in the lifestyle and it's their kink so to speak. For others like myself it's easy to carry on a regular life and have the lifestyle. You are just more open about your lifestyle and don't throw it in anyone's face. They understand what you do, but most people don't understand to what degree and the true intensity that it is.

Does it become real with the sub deferring to her Dom about all her life's decisions?

In a very deep and true sub/slave the sub does defer all her life's decisions to her Master. Yet that does not mean she doesn't express her wishes and desires. She would talk about how she feels, what she wants and have open discussions with her Dom. The Master then weighs these points and makes the final decision.

Yes, I'm interested in the punishments, the sex and the fetishwear, but I also really want to know how it works psychologically.

Well first off psycologically a person in the sub role has to remember that anything said to her/him degradingly or for humilation is just to bring the person into their role and for play. It has nothing to do with how the Master truely feels about them. Ex. I call a woman a slutty cum whore, that's meant in affection but in real life I don't view her as such. It takes a person who is mentally strong and secure to play intensely in the lifestyle. Someone who has psychological issues would deeply be effected negatively in this lifestyle.

There you have it gang. The other side. Now how about you?
Do you find the idea of a Dom/sub relationship sexy? And if so does it appeal to you mainly as an erotic fantasy or is it something you’d really try? Share your feelings on the subject if you wish, but if you don't feel like sharing just drop a comment that says "I was here" to be entered in the daily drawing.

I'm giving away a download of my new release, Seasons of Love, in which there are no BDSM relationships whatsoever.

Take your pick!

Jennifer Y please take a look at Liquid Silver's library and take your pick of a free download. If you want one of mine, that's great, but if you'd like to try someone new, it's your choice.

Send me a note and let me know your wish!

Thanks for your great ideas, y'all! They'll be considered, believe me, especially when I start the time travel next week.

Dee
www.deesknight.com

What's in a name?

Damn, y’all. I hate to follow Michelle Hoppe on a blog day. Her blogs are always killer—fun and informative. I’d never have heard of horny goat weed if not for Michelle, and I know my life wouldn’t be as full and meaningful. Honestly, Friday is my anniversary—this makes many, many years Jack has had the pleasure of calling me his bride—and little does he know his sloppy Joe anniversary dinner might be liberally sprinkled with horny goat weed. Or maybe he’d enjoy body frosting more. Do they sell that in bulk, Michelle?

Okay, now to my subject. What’s in a name? I recently finished a proposal for a non-erotic manuscript. It’s about a woman who comes face to face with her father who deserted the family thirty-one years before. This story has been knocking around in my empty little head for a couple of years now, so writing the proposal was easy. Naming the darn thing was AWFUL! My pal, Vanessa Hart, had a great name she gave me, but I was talked out of it. I finally settled on a name Jack came up with: Expectations. It’s not a great name, though it fits the story. It’s just not something that hit me between the eyes and knocked me out with its perfection.

Usually book names aren’t difficult for me. I often think of the name before starting to write or half way through the project. Even if I get all the way to the end, a name comes to mind without much trouble. I don’t know why this was so hard.

So, here’s a challenge for you. If you look on my Coming Soon page, you’ll see two books there. One is currently titled Time of Flight, and the heroine is named Merrick. If, after reading the brief description, you have a better idea for a title or heroine name, post here and tell me.

If you’d rather conjure up a wonderful name for the sequel to Passionate Destiny, I’d appreciate it. I don’t have any idea what to name it, although I’d thought to use the word “destiny” in the title. If you know the story of Passionate Destiny, this will concern the unborn son at the end. His name is Aaron. Give me your best ideas for a book title and the heroine’s name. Please!

I’ll pick the answer(s) I like best and will put them in the pot for consideration. I’m starting to write the time travel book next week. If I use your suggestion for either book, I’ll certainly give you credit. And for now, your prize will be any book in Liquid Silver’s library.

Thanks for your help!

Dee

Stay Tuned ...

Hey, gang, Dee S. Knight lost power last night and her internet is down. Today is her day to blog. Just as soon as she's up and running again, she'll be with you. And it'll be an interesting topic, too, about book titles and character naming.

Vanessa Hart

Winners

Thank you for all the great fun and ideas today everyone. As always I had a blast spending time with ya'll and look forward to our next lesson.

I've picked eight names from the hat who get the title of teachers pet and win a prize. Congrats ladies. Send me an email:
michelle@michellehoppe.com

Lisa
Valerie
Chell
Glenda
Katqueen
RobinS
Bebe
Kerry

Again, thanks everyone for coming out to play.

Michelle Hoppe
www.michellehoppe.com

Horny Goatweed ...

Well now, this was easier than falling off a log. Not only did I find info on Horny Goatweed, I also found out there are lots of other strangely named plants in the same family. So here’s the info as presented by http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Epimedium,
a great online resource for just about anything.

Epimedium, also known as Barrenwort, Bishop's Hat, Fairy Wings, Horny Goatweed, or Yin Yang Huo, is a genus of about 25 species of herbaceous flowering plants in the family Berberidacease. They are native to southern Europe, and central, southern and eastern Asia. Epimedium species are hardy perennials. They have four-petaled "spider-like" flowers in spring or early summer.

Many species of Epimedium are reported to have aphrodisiac qualities. According to legend, this property was discovered by a Chinese goat (I told you it was a man hahahahaha) herder who noticed sexual activity in his flock after they ate the weed.

It is sold as a health supplement, usually in raw herb or pill form and sometimes blended with other supplements. (Wowza, time to read some of those health food labels.)

The "active ingredient" in Epimedium is icariin, which can be found in standardized extracts to be from 5% up to 60% potent. Strengths above that are usually reserved for lab use. (Okay, how do I get a job in the lab?)

Horny Goat Weed works by increasing nitric oxide levels, which relax smooth muscle. This lets more blood flow to the penis or clitoris or other smooth muscle.

In addition to this mechanism, it also acts as a mild PDE-5 inhibitor. PDE-5 is an enzyme which is produced in a 'negative feedback" loop.
As more blood flows to the genitals, PDE-5 metabolizes the nitric oxide almost as fast as it is being produced to keep it in check. If the body does not produce enough of this enzyme, damage to the erect penis could result from too hard of an erection. (LOL, in a man's eye is there any such thing as a too hard erection?)

This is called priapism. Viagra, a popular pharmaceutical, works by blocking the production of the PDE-5 enzyme. Horny Goat Weed produces small amount of PDE-5 inhibitors within safe levels.

Well, what do you think? Ready to try some Horny Goatweed?

Don't forget to read my first post - Good morning bloggers - to enter my contest.

Michelle Hoppe

Good morning bloggers................

~~~~~~~~ Consumables Part II

What fun. The ideas you’ve all given in your comments are a blast and it’s so nice to have such an imaginative class ~grinz~.

Fruit rolls and donuts, lol, the ideas that flooded my brain at that one, I have to say – OY’s. I think I see a sex scene in my new book getting pretty interesting, which of course means testing, will be necessary so I can give it that true to life feel.

The numbers of products available at adult stores, brick and mortar or internet are pretty wide and varied, but as many of you have pointed out, your very own kitchen cabinets most likely hold a treasure trove of very edible items for getting the evening off to a delicious start.

Whip cream in the can seems to be a favorite amongst us and all I can say is yes.

Yes it works great.

Yes it tastes great.

Yes, yes, yes, time to stock up.

Here are a few more items I found in my diligent search of the internet (adult toy stores, lol) to present to the class.

"Spanish Fly - What It Does: Try Spanish Fly for the response you've been looking for! Just a few drops of Spanish Fly encourages excitement, enhances sexual experiences and is used as an aphrodisiac.

Pleasure Points: Available in a variety of flavors that you can add to any beverage and drink.

All right than. The name is a little bit of a turn off, but some man probably named it. I’m sure in his imagination he saw planes or something equally large, but me, well my mind is a little twisted and all I can think of is that flying black bug. You know the one. I will tell you that if you can get past the bug idea and actually try the product, you might find it an interesting experience ~g~.

"Sum Poosie Energy DrinkThink Pink, Drink Pink! A taste of Sum Poosie will push you over the edge, and there is no coming back! A great new energy drink - that tastes good too!"

With all the energy drinks and products on the market marathon sex should be common place, oh wait, it is. Isn’t it?

"Porn Star Herbal Capsules - Lights! Stamina! Action! Perform like you're in the movies with these Porn Star Herbal Capsules. The perfect sexual enhancement formula.

Ingredients: Yohimbe bark extract, xanthoparmelia scabrosa extract, horny goat weed extract, cnidium monnieri extrat, prototrib TM, mucuna pruniens, black pepper powder, long pepper powder, ginger root powder, maca puarma extract, pumpkin seed powder, stinging nettle root extract, astragalus root powder, licorice root extract, ho-shu-wu extract, hops extract and boron amino acid chelate."

Well now. I just had to include this one. I mean the name alone sorta grabs your attention. And who wouldn't want stamina?

Again the ingredient list is a little strange, but it’s got horny goat weed in it so it must be good, lol. I’m thinking it’s time to dig a little and find out just exactly what horny goat weed is.

I’m also going to rummage in my kitchen and see if we have any fruit rolls to experiment with ~smiles~.

~~~~~~~~ Consumables Part I

I'm Michelle Hoppe and today I'm playing teacher ~grinz~. So get out your note pads and get ready to tak...ummm scratch that, you don't need to take notes, because this blog is live 24/7, so you can always come back to re-read if need be.

For today's lesson, I've scoured the internet (adult toy sites ~smiles~) to bring you the latest and greatest information about something we all need to have in our Romance (because I’m going to do you tonight baby) Kit.

Consumables.

Yep I said consumables. Those wonderful products that make everything just a little more fun.

So are you ready to get busy? Discussing consumables that is, not the doing it tonight baby thing, because, well it’s not time for that yet, you must first spend some quality blog time with me ~grinz~.

The first product I want to present is one of my all time favorites – Body Frosting. I mean really, how could anyone not like frosting. And, bonus – it comes in chocolate! Now we’re talking. You’ll be happy to know according to varies adult sites, no batteries are required. Is that like one of them disclaimer things, when they tell you frosting doesn’t need batteries? Are there people out there who would try to battery power their frosting?

Oh well, here’s the scoop on Body Frosting:

“What It Does: For Chocoholics all over, the ultimate divine dessert! Undress completely and apply body frosting. Be creative. Use a little on special places, or use a lot! It all depends on the appetite of your guest. Serve warm for a treat to die for! You won't know what you love more, the chocolate or eating it off your partner! Includes quickie recipes to try out with your partner. Use with fruit, breads, fingers, toes, and everything in between!”

All right than.

Are we excited?

This product comes with quickie recipes and when you’re not in the mood, just pour a little on your ice cream and at least have some dessert. What more could you ask for from a product? I’m telling you this is a must have for every RK.

Moving right along, let’s talk for a moment about Sex Syrup. Yes pancakes require syrup so why not sex?

Right, I agree. Every pantry and romance kit should be well stocked in syrup.

Here’s the scoop on the product:

“Sex Syrup is a special sexual energy syrup that you can use in almost anything! Gives morning sex a whole new meaning! Our proprietary blend of high potency aphrodisiac herbs creates a sexual lube like nothing you have ever experienced. Treat yourself and your lover to sweet Sex Syrup today! Pleasure Points: Great on waffles, in coffee, Italian sodas, and on each other!”

Phew, I’m glad they got that last point in there for sure, cause I for one want morning sex to include a naked body or two or three…hmm but that’s another blog.

One more great thing about Sex Syrup is it has 0 Fat! Now that’s a company with our health in mind, don’t you think?

And heres one for all those babes out there who are pepsi and coke fiends. Let me tell you about something else to put in your mouth and suck ~eg~.

Sex Soda.

Yep, you heard it here; they have sex soda, who’d-a-thunk?

Here’s all the info on this great product.

“Wet your sexual appetite with SEX Soda, the herbal aphrodisiac sexual energy soda. This Sexplosive micro brewed cocktail is a blend of the finest and most potent aphrodisiac herbs from around the world.”

Did you read that? Sexplosive!! I bet your pepsi and coke can’t make that claim. Oh and the ingredient list for this highly sexual drink is a cornucopia of unpronounceable words:

"Ingredients include: Ginseng, Saw Palmetto, Horny Goat Weed, Damiana, Ginkgo Biloba, Avena Sativa and Yohimbe are all found in this Sextraordinary sexual energy beverage."

I don’t even want to know what horny goat weed is, my goodness, but I’ll bet you it’s what puts the sextraordinary in sex soda.

So, tell me, what do you think so far?

Having fun?

Gonna come back for more?

I’ve got other great products to discuss today, so stop back by, join the fun, and maybe earn a prize from the teacher ~lol~, because you know it’s not a blog day with Michelle unless there are prizes.

Michelle Hoppe
Please take a moment to visit my website

Riding the Line - Winner

Catt! You're the lucky gal!!!
Thanks everyone for sharing your "Leaps of Faith"!
I don't feel so out there anymore!

Until next time!
Paige

A dirty book is rarely dusty. ~ Anonymous

The transformation of Lindsay...

Hillary Duff had that innocent quality I was going for with Lindsay, but she also has that sultry side just below the surface ready to come out.

Here's Lindsay...

Shades of Grant Callahan...

For all my characters I use pictures for reference. It helps me in descriptions and for inspiration. Sometimes it's a well known actor, actress, or models, and sometimes it's just a picture I found on the internet.

Scott Speedman really defined what I thought Grant looked like in my head.

Enjoy my inspiration!

I'll be posting pics of Lindsay Taylor in a little bit, but if you'd like to see my other characters follow this Link.

Keep telling me about your "Leaps of Faith" too! So far I only have ONE person eligible for a prize!

Riding the Line

Hi everyone!

The publishing of Riding the Line was a long time coming, well, it seemed long to me anyway. It's one of the first stories I started but not the first story I submitted to Liquid Silver. I stopped writing it to write my two shorter stories for A Faerie Tale anthology with Tiffany Aaron, Rae Monet and Jodi Lynn Copeland and Zodiac: Aquarius with Vanessa Hart. Recognize any of those names? It's practically a Who's Who list at Liquid Silver! While I knew I liked my writing, I felt very much the "Freshman" hanging out with a bunch of "Seniors"! (High School analogy, not old people! LOL)

When those two stories were finished I sat back and took stock of the stories I had started. RTL had the most words and when I sat down to re-read what I'd written I feel in love with the story all over again and just had to finish it. Many of you know I have two crazy boys, 5 & 7, as well as take care of my 75 yr old Grandmother so my writing time is very limited. It took me about 5 months to complete it, add to that the production time for cover, editing, etc... You get the picture.

So while I've already had two stories published, this "technically" is my debut novella. Me. All by myself. Alone. Can you feel the panic setting in? ;)

What about you?

Tell me about a time you took that leap of faith,
no one holding your hand, and stepped off the cliff.

Was it singing a solo?
Was it not waiting for that HOT guy across the bar to notice you,
so you bought him a drink?

I want to know so I don't feel so alone in the spotlight! LOL

Everyone who posts today will be entered to win a copy of Riding the Line!

PS: I'll be back in a bit w/ some hotties for ya too! ;)

I'm happy to be alive and taking nourishment on this, *the morning after* the release of Cold, Hard Kash. Kash is happy, too. He's been waiting to be called out for quite awhile. Kash is a Shadow Lover. And he aims to please. Here's an excerpt:

Chapter Three

Kash breezed into the room like a midnight fog.
“I didn’t think you’d come so quickly,” the Summoner said softly. “I wasn’t sure the words still had any power.” A lie. She knew the words had power. Sharp, pointy, hard, toothy power.
She held up a photocopied page. “Especially since I tucked the original away for safekeeping and used a photocopy to summon you. Guess we don’t need this any longer, do we?” She held up an old, heavy Zippo lighter against the paper’s edge. She ignited its butane flame. The page flared. “God, I love fire. It’s so--cleansing. Don’t you love a good burning, cowboy?”
Kash’s extremities went numb. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen...the words going up in flames. And the smell--of lighter fluid and burning paper. Heavenly. He clenched his fists. If only every copy of the curse was in that burn.
He watched the Summoner’s face change from an almost haughty smirk to one of girlish rapture as she turned the page over in her hands. She liked playing with fire--but feared it, too. The rush of almost being burned aroused her. That could work to his advantage. He could read the excitement on her face--and her nipples were hard. Easy to tell that through the blouse she had on.
Mamacita, she’s an attractive woman. Kash paused, recalling the last time he’d thought that way about a woman it got him in an awful lot of trouble.
She spoke, “Well, now that you’re here...what shall we do?”
He wanted to ask her to give him the original parchment, but knew better. She had to offer it to him or else the burning would come on, and he didn’t feel up to the hot-foot. He’d become a man-sized Bic™ lighter if he didn’t follow the rules. He didn’t want to go there--not twice, at least. He could ask to see a parchment, but he couldn't ask to buy it, trade for it, or force it from a Summoner. It had to be offered or gifted to him--and that, no woman had ever done. Not in well over a hundred years. If he ever got his hands on a parchment for more than three seconds, he’d rip the thing to shreds, burn the remains and scatter the ashes. Much like the delightful creature before him had done with the photocopy. Did she know that watching the paper burn had aroused him? Really aroused him? This is my kind of woman.
Though his heart was racing, Kash put on his game face. “I came to make love to you.”
The Summoner smiled. “That’s the intended result of the utterance, yes? I call and you come to make love to me. It’s an ages-old ritual, this. The lonely woman and her Incubus lover. Magic spells and sexual incantations in this day and age which call out modern-day Incubi! I’m so pleased my efforts weren’t in vein. So...uh...what do I call you? Do we need to have a drink first, or do we just get right to it?”
Twenty-first century women! God. Kash approached where she sat primly at the foot of her bed. He noticed the candlelight and her lacy undergarment peeking out from the sedate schoolmarmish blouse. Was it to make the setting seem romantic? There really was no romance involved. There had never been romance involved. He was a sure thing. No seduction needed.
He touched her shoulder. Instantly, he knew her sexually. He knew what she liked and how she liked it. Her tastes seemed to run a bit to the far end of the lovemaking spectrum--but he knew he could please her. Kash could taste her raging passion. Passion capped like an Oklahoma oil well, lest it burst and burst free and poison the earth.
This one had a few secrets, too--dark places he couldn’t penetrate--but he’d figure things out. He always did. Her secrets were like shadows darting from the kiss of the sun.
“Call me ‘Kash’-with a ‘K.’ I want to make love to you. Your scent, your touch, your kiss--those are the only aphrodisiacs I require,” he replied.
He climbed onto the bed and pulled the woman to her back. His mouth found hers. He could taste her dire isolation and loneliness. He could taste her strength and cunning. He could taste her secrets and hidden passions; those, in fact, were nearly overwhelming.
His hands found her soft, round breasts. The sedate white blouse only made it seem more naughty as he caressed and kissed them through the fabric. He trailed his kisses down her body, over her clothing, stopping at the hem of her skirt where it met her hose. He slid her skirt up. Thank God for thigh-highs and lacy panties.
Through the delicate fabric of her undergarment he pulled and teased the seat of her womanhood to full arousal with his lips and teeth. He watched for signs--her hands gripping the bed clothes--her breath coming short and shallow--her hips gently moving in rhythm to his oral teasing. When he knew she was close to orgasm, he peeled back the wet panties and gave the Summoner the best damn tongue-lashing of her life.

Morning After ~ Darragha Foster & Paige Burns

Cold, Hard Kash
by Darragha Foster

&

Riding the Line
by Paige Burns

Thank you

Thank you all for commenting today about why you read. We all seem to read to escape our real lives, to learn about new and different things and to journey to places we will never get to visit. :)

Now for the winner....estella, will you please contact me at tffnyaaron@gmail.com to claim your prize.

Thanks again everyone.

Tiffany

What Was I Thinking?

I borrowed this pic from a friend. :) He's got some great pics posted at his blog if you want to stop by and check them out.

Now if this man was truly my personal trainer, I might be whining nearly as much as I want to right now. Joined a gym on Saturday and I can barely lift my arms...lol. Good thing typing doesn't involve lifting my arms for anything. :0

Well, my question for y'all today is this...why do you read? I don't mean just romance or even erotic romance. Why do you chose to pick up a book or an e-book reader instead of knitting or crossword puzzles? Not that's anything wrong with knitting or puzzles...lol

Is it being able to get lost in a story that you're sure will work out in the end? Is it the rush of flying through space on a earth saving mission to another planet? Or being a gunslinger in the Old West, fighting bank robbers or Native Americans?

I read because it takes me to places I'll never be able to go to in real life. It gives me experiences with creatures and alien beings-that if they exist-I hope to never meet face-to-face. (Bigfoot is scary) No matter how bad things are in my life, I read a book and I see that good things can happen to people whose lives are just as bad as mine...lol. Books give me hope, but they also can make me cry. Which is good as well.

So tell me why you read. I'm going to busy this morning, but I'll check back in the afternoon. One lucky winner will get a great prize from me. I'll be drawing the name around 9 tonight. :)

Tiffany

A man with markings; Sexy or not Sexy?

Okay, do you find a tattooed men sexy? That’s today’s blog question.

Webster dictionary calls a tattoo an: indelible mark or figure fixed upon the body by insertion of pigment under the skin or by production of scars.

In my book, The Lost Wolf Warrior, the hero and heroine are marked with a symbolic tattoo's on their shoulders. In my mind, giving them these markings made them both sexy and mysterious--at the same time.

I have to admit, a well placed tattoo in the right spot on a man, makes me all aquiver and then again, too much of the same good thing...makes me grimace.

What makes women love men with tattoos? Is it the old bad boy persona that we love to love? Is it the pirate-sea-fantasy we conjure up about the damsel being kidnapped and ravished by the handsome, tattooed, man with the black eye patch, who becomes her long lost love?

What’s your tattoo-man fantasy and why?

Happy April Fools Day

Grateful greetings--

I know I promised you all a laugh riot in my SEx blog today, but April Fools! I'll do that later. Right now I'm in a serious, contemplative and even spiritual space. Yes, it happens. Silly Cindy has a serious side.

First of all, yesterday would have been my mother's birthday. She was my hero. I kept getting reminders of all the wonderful things about her and all she imparted to me all day. Anyway, I pulled one heck of an April Fools Day joke on her years ago that she never forgot. My mom was a nightowl. It was asking a lot for her to drag her body out of bed in the morning, but she made my dad his breakfast every day then she'd go back to bed as soon as she kissed him Goodbye.

She was the deepest sleeper I ever knew. One April Fool's Day when I was all ready for school and she was back in bed for a couple more hours of shut-eye, I walked in and said, "Hi Mom. I'm home." *Gasp.* "Aren't you out of bed yet?" I made her think she had slept the whole day away. She shot out of bed like she'd been fired out of a cannon.

\\My dh e-mailed me this joke yesterday: Perfect for April Fool's Day!

DEAR TIDE:

I am writing to say what an excellent product you have! I've used
it all of my married life, as my Mom always told me it was the best.
Now that I am in my fifties I find it even better! In fact, about a
month ago, I spilled some red wine on my new white blouse. My
inconsiderate and uncaring husband started to belittle me about how
clumsy I was, and generally started becoming a pain in the neck. One
thing led to another and somehow I ended up with his blood on my new
white blouse!

I grabbed my bottle of Tide with bleach alternative, and to my surprise
and satisfaction, all of the stains came out! In fact, the stains came out
so well the detectives who came by yesterday told me that theDNA tests
on my blouse were negative and then my attorney called and said that I
was no longer considered a suspect in the disappearance of my husband.
What a relief! Going through menopause is bad enough without being a
murder suspect! I thank you, once again, for having a great product.
Well, gotta go, have to write to the Hefty bag people.