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27.2.11

Food, Glorious Food




No one can accuse me of having many vices – I don’t smoke or take drugs, I barely drink alcohol and I even avoid fizzy drinks. In fact, I’m disgustingly clean living, in that the vices I have are not so much harmful, but more enjoyable (if you’re doing it right!) There is one exception, though.

Food. Well, potentially harmful if you have a penchant for the wrong things ... and I often do. If there is food around, I want some and I want a big portion. When it comes to eating, willpower is not a word that I understand. And I don’t think I’m alone. At a recent event, somehow, a conversation within a small group about our work quickly turned to food, even before we were given access to the buffet! As well as confirming our likes and dislikes, we bonded over our loves or loathing of cooking and entertaining, what changes we make to improve recipes and how consuming what we love made us feel.

Although, I do love my fruit, vegetables, fish and lean meat and mostly eat well, that isn’t always the case. My massive sweet tooth is partly to blame, which has led to a pretty serious addiction to cheesecake amongst many other sweet treats. Could you resist a nice warm chocolate fondant with vanilla ice-cream? It is often these delicious pleasures that have the power to make us feel good as well as satisfying hunger. This applies equally to savouries, which don’t get a reprieve as I am a card-carrying carnivore, even to the point of relishing things that people usually dislike: liver, black pudding, sweet breads – yum.

It’s easy to imagine this leading to a nine and a half weeks type story, combining food and sex in a sensual way. However, this doesn’t appeal to me as I conjure images of a sticky mess—and not the good kind. In fact, my love of all things edible has led me to become a great fan of exercise, allowing me to maintain my greedy—erm, I mean foodie—status by keeping me on a cycle (geddit?!) of burning off the energy created after stuffing my face. Guilt free indulgence in the subject of my long-term love affair.

The types of exercise routines I enjoy can vary as much as the foodstuffs I like, which stops it from getting boring and keeps the body guessing. Why do battle with a restrictive diet when there are much better ways to burn off the calories? Whether in the gym, the park, the bedroom, against a wall, in a sex swing, atop a washing machine... I would much rather continue to eat and work it off in all the best possible ways.

This ability to find an exercise routine from a range of sources was the inspiration for my latest novella, Lean and Mean, for which I include a snippet ahead of its release tomorrow. The contemporary story is a humorous look at how Remy reacts when her chosen method of exercise is challenged by Isaiah, a body builder with the ability to show her an entirely different way to work out.




Only a few minutes passed before he attempted to divert her focus by making noises, intermittently whistling and clicking his tongue in an attempt to attract her attention. However, she remained resolute in not allowing him to break her focus by training her gaze ahead of her, despite hearing him perfectly well. After a final wolf whistle that made her lips twitch with the beginnings of a smile she barely managed to resist, he appeared to give up when his efforts failed.
The satisfaction she got from her victory caused a warmth to spread in her chest, easily surpassing that which arose from her exertion. However, she quickly discovered that her assumption was wrong despite the slowing whirr of his machine and reduction in the speed of his steps.
Remy maintained the appearance of paying him no attention but was well aware of his every action, anticipation of his intentions making her stomach flip.
Rather than simply dismounting the machine, he manoeuvred his body through the gap between the machines. He climbed onto the ledge on the front of Remy’s treadmill, holding onto the rails as he stood watching her run.
With his surprise move, he made it impossible to ignore him as he was the only one in her view. She had no option but to look at him, and she would have it no other way.
“Did your treadmill break?” she asked through deep breaths, not breaking stride. “Must be all that muscle—too heavy.”
“The machine’s fine, I just prefer the view from here.”
She watched his gaze drift from her face to her breasts, her vest top displaying the outline of her figure as well as a hint of cleavage. Finally, he succeeded in throwing her off course, forcing her to grip the rails to prevent her from stumbling.
“I win,” she smiled, recovering her stride and holding his gaze.
“You didn’t win, I’m not fatigued.”
“Well, you forfeited because you stopped running.”
He dipped his head so that his face came level with hers, giving the impression that he was to kiss her. However, it wasn’t forthcoming, he held her gaze as he hovered mere inches from her face. The proximity of his mouth to hers made her own lips part, a pull within her making her yearn to feel their softness and taste his mouth.
Find me at website, blog, Facebook and Goodreads.

26.2.11

Friendship



Throughout my life I’ve been blessed with friendships that have made me grow. I’m fortunate that my girlfriends are smart, drama-free, achievers. The fabulous women I call friends believe that: small minds discuss other people, mediocre minds discuss events, great minds discuss ideas.

Once, I had a very stressful writing deadline. My friend Lisa Craig told me she’d be my designated worrier. She said, “You write; I’ll worry.” She went on to say that she’d do a really good job for me. She’d even have mild panic attacks from time to time.

What a wild concept, and it worked. When I would freak out about how little time I had remaining, I would think, “Lisa’s worrying. I don’t need to. I just need to write.” I was able to sharpen my thinking, quit worrying, and get back to creating.

Of course, she never had a panic attack on my behalf, but the idea that I didn’t have to worry changed my frame of references.

Recently my friend Angela Fobianke challenged me. Some months ago, I decided I wanted to play competitive racquetball. (What?! A competitive sport at my age??) Angela was one of the only people I told about my wild and crazy idea. She said, “Of course you can become an athlete!”

I hired a coach and stepped up my workout schedule with my personal trainer (who also said, Go for it!). I now weight train a couple of days a week. My trainer is adorable. Several weeks ago, when I hit 115lbs on squats (more than my body weight), he goes, “Lean and mean, squatting 115!”

Angela and I were munching salad at our favorite neighborhood cafĂ© and when I told her what Ben said, I misspoke. I said, “Lean and mean, squatting 215!”

We looked at each other.

Angela’s eyes lit up.

Oh. No. No, no, no, no, no. No way. No way could I ever squat more than double my weight. Hey, after all, I’m a girl! And I’m not even five feet tall.

But Angela would have none of it. She challenged me. She told me to contact Ben immediately. I reluctantly sent him a text message. (I still can’t believe alcohol wasn’t involved.)

Ben said, “Of course you can squat 215. It’ll take nine months to a year to get you there. But yeah.”

So…thanks (I think!), Angela!

My squat is now at 185 lbs. My deadlift is 165 lbs. (Full disclosure, I’m setting personal records on bench press, but I’m still not where I want it to be. I’ve managed 75 lbs, but I have trouble controlling the weight for more than three reps.)

Because of the amazing friends in my life, I reach for more, accomplish more.

It works the other way, too. I dragged poor Angela to a 5k on Thanksgiving morning. We both achieved something we didn’t think we could that morning.

Celebrating together is tremendous fun, too.

As women, we’re blessed with our friendships.

I hope your friendships enrich you as mine do me. Here’s to YOU.

24.2.11

As You Wish by Nichelle Gregory

This Monday marked my second release with Total E-Bound and a diagnosis of strep throat. Double yucko. I don't feel like I've celebrated this release properly, but I simply lack the energy to do so. I can say that I'm extremely happy with how this first book from the Djinn Brotherhood turned out. It's a fast-paced read with lots of thrill and heat! What's not to love about a gorgeous alpha genie with special powers?

It was hard to say goodbye to Vander and Karis, but I'm looking forward to working on the second book in the series. Take a look inside the book below and if you'd like a chance to win As You Wish, stop by my blog Simply Sexy Stories!

Blurb:
A race against time to save her physic mother from supernatural forces leaves Karis, a novice clairvoyant, no choice but to trust a very sexy genie granting three wishes and an offer to help her tap into her psychic abilities...if she'll come willing to his bed.

Excerpt:
With her eyes still closed, Karis kept chanting the mantra, “This isn’t real, this isn’t happening.” If she said it enough times, it would have to be true.

“Oh, yes, I am real and this is definitely happening.” A deep voice filled the room.

Her eyes flew open and for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, she screamed.

A strange man stood in her living room within arm’s reach! He towered above her, standing well over six feet with rich mahogany skin and a thick muscular build. Her gaze dipped to his bare chest and tapered waist. Ripped oblique muscles disappeared beneath the loose white pants riding low on his hips. Heat flooded her cheeks as she tore her eyes from his torso back to his face.

He held her shocked gaze with the most beautiful hazel eyes she had ever seen. He had the chiselled profile that would inspire fantasies and fantastic works of art. From the crown of his bald head to the soles of his bare feet, his bold features set him apart from the average male. He exuded confidence, evidenced in his relaxed stance and the cool sexy smile directed at her. A stylish goatee encircled his full lips and she couldn’t stop her eyes from travelling over the rest of his rock hard body. She took in every detail from his strong jaw line, thick neck, and the most impressive set of abs on full display. He was sexy as hell, but his sex appeal did nothing to calm her racing heart or the stark realisation she needed to call her doctor now.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered again, feeling light-headed.

The gorgeous apparition chuckled, flashing a perfect smile. “Not quite, but I get that a lot.”

She was losing her mind, hallucinating now in broad daylight.

“Tell me, how I may serve you?” The rich sound of his voice flowed over her like a warm summer breeze.

At least she was hallucinating about a hot guy and not the hideous creature in her dreams. She sucked in a breath as the half-naked man approached her and the entire room began to spin.

“No,” Karis whispered. She took one faltering step backwards and fainted.

As You Wish is available now!

Until next time, read something sexy, say something daring and be who you want to be, you're beautiful! :)

~NG
www.nichellegregory.com

23.2.11

Feral Heat by Jenna Byrnes and Jude Mason

Book one in the Untamed Hearts Series

The scent of a female is a powerful thing. Kai, leader of the cougar clan finds that out the hard way, much to his distress. Can he and his life mate, Aric, find the stolen talisman before it's too late?

The female's scent is highly arousing, even to a cougar closely mated to his male partner. But Kai is no ordinary cougar. He's a changeling, sometimes a highly sexed human, and sometimes an even friskier cat. He mounts the seductive Sable, unaware of her mission and exactly what he's preparing to lose.

The talisman amulet has kept the cougar clan at peace for generations. When it's stolen Kai and his mate, the handsome Aric, set out on a journey to recover it. Meeting treachery and deception at every turn, the duo are forced to battle not only for the peace of the cougar clans, but for their very survival, and the life of their newfound love, Sable.



This story has male male interaction as part of a polyamourous relationship and some BDSM play.

~ Read an excerpt or purchase here




Top Pick

22.2.11

Old School

Yesterday, I was looking at Fictionwise. Why? I don't know, because I haven't purchased anything from them in a long while, ever since I received my Nook. But it got me thinking about my old ereader. I recharged my handy-dandy eBookwise, and after a few hours, had a fully loaded, 11hr battery charged device. It's backlit, you have to physically connect the device to the computer to download, and it does nothing but allow you to read books. No internet, no music, nothing.

I love it.

Reading on it again made me realize how much I liked having such a simple tool. I have a manuscript I wrote, in .doc format. And all I had to do to read it on the device was drag and drop into a librarian (software). Then I plug in my ereader and wait.

No, I can't use WiFi to download. There's no color screen, and it's not a touch screen either. You can't read well outside, as the contrasts are blinding. But it's simple, easy, and the page turns are instant. A nice return to one of the original electronic readers. How "old fashioned" I must seem. :)

Marie
www.marieharte.com

21.2.11

Enough Winter Already!

It began to snow December 1st and it's only February 21st but in the grand scheme of winter, that's a long few months. The snow started to fall softly and innocently, covering the ground in a light dusting of powder. And it was so pretty. Until the weekend when we had the first snow storm of December.

The cars were trapped in front of the barn.



Even the dog couldn't get down the driveway.



The wind howled and the snow blew around the doors.




The picnic tables disappeared under a blanket of snow.



The wind even bent the growing icicles.



And the highway closed.



So I thought warm thoughts of men together at Spa Excess, the largest gay spa in Toronto. And that lead me to thinking about Indulge Me, the book I wrote after my visit there. So here's a lovely warm excerpt for those of you suffering through the cold of winter and for those of you who aren't. Let's hope Spring is just around the corner.


Blurb:

Meet me at Indulgence. Noon today. I want you naked in the Wet Area.


Keane Daniels has received an anonymous note summoning him to Indulgence, the largest gay spa and bathhouse in Toronto. Since he’s in unrequited lust with his boss, Keane thinks a clandestine tryst might just take his mind off his gorgeous colleague.


Rayche Marquette has wanted Keane since hiring him, but being his boss means Keane’s off limits…until Rayche decides he can wait no longer and reserves the Wet Area of the spa so the two of them can spend a Naughty Nooner together.


Excerpt:

Minutes passed before either of them moved. Keane moaned as Rayche withdrew. A moan for the pleasure of the withdrawal, but a moan for the loss of the connection as well.

As Rayche pulled him upright and turned him in his arms, Keane grabbed his head and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. The hard fuck had barely taken the edge off his hunger for this man. He bit at Rayche’s lower lip, tugging it into his mouth, running his tongue along it. Then he drew back, gently pulling, slowly releasing it from between his teeth. He slid his tongue into Rayche’s mouth, slicking it back and forth over the sensitive palate.

“I don’t think I could ever get enough of you,” he said moments later.

Rayche laughed as he broke away and disposed of the condom in the small garbage can. “That’s good, because I have other plans for you.”

Keane looked on as Rayche pulled one of the handles on the wall and waited for the water to turn hot. “Would you like some help there?” he asked playfully, reaching out to stroke his lover’s arm.

It was a very naughty grin that Rayche flashed back. “Actually, I’m going to shower and wait for you in the steam room.”

“Why don’t I stand here and watch?” Keane was more than happy to take the role of observer as Rayche moved under the powerful stream. Turning his back to the wall, he leaned against it, crossed his arms and bent one leg so the foot pressed flat on its glossy tiles. The water slicked back Rayche’s dark hair and poured down his golden torso, over his spent cock and down his muscular legs. As Rayche soaped his hands, the steam gathering around him, Keane’s cock stirred to life. Despite the uncertainty of their relationship, he still wanted this man with a vengeance. Rayche lathered the foam over his chest and Keane’s foot came down and the other took its place. When Rayche took his own cock in hand and caressed it, Keane’s hands fell to his sides, clenched into fists.

Maybe I can’t just stand and watch, he thought. Maybe I don’t want to. Reaching along the wall beside his head, he pulled the lever on the dispenser and let the soap spiral onto his fingers. Rayche’s eyes were closed as he palmed his cock, his hands slipping along the now hard length and around the plump head. Keane called to him and, when he opened his eyes, Keane took a more solid stance, grasped his own hard-on and tugged it out and away from his body. Rayche’s face reflected the hunger Keane felt.

Rayche spread his legs, his soapy hands taking a path in between to wash his balls. Keane’s eyes followed, watching as Rayche massaged the heavy sac with his lathered fingers, using first one hand and then the other to cover it in soapy foam. Making more suds, he gave his back to Keane and slid his fingers down his crease, paying special attention to his arsehole.

Looking over his shoulder, he said, “Want to make sure it’s nice and clean in case you want to put your tongue there.”

Keane bounced his cock gently against his palm and held it up for Rayche’s inspection. “That’s not the only thing I’m going to be putting there.”

As Rayche rinsed off and moved to grab a towel from a hook on the wall, Keane took his place under the spray and hurriedly soaped his body and let the warm water cleanse it. Rayche held out another towel and he grabbed it.

“I’m going to head into the steam room. Why don’t you just take your time getting dried off?” Rayche said, running his fingers down Keane’s cheek.

Keane snorted, a rather inelegant sound. “You mean take my time so you can watch me. No problem.” He took note of Rayche’s gorgeous backside as the man strode across the floor, pulled open the steam room door and disappeared into the mist. That sultry smell hit Keane’s nostrils as the door swung shut. Now it made him think of hot sex with Rayche.

See you next month and stay naughty,


Kaenar Langford

www.kaenar.com

Tales to seduce and entice…

18.2.11

A New Norm

After the personal turmoil of last year I’ve been trying to get back into my life. Get the feel of what I was and who I used to be. However I realized that I have changed. Some of the changes are subtle but I noticed a difference. Others are more obvious and even others have taken note. Thankfully in my opinion and those who noticed the changes are for the better.

With these changes I had to reevaluate what I was used to and work to get to a new place. As I did this I found out something about myself. The change has revitalized my passion for things that I hadn’t realized that I had stopped taking time for. One for instance is my love of movies. I used to eagerly look forward to certain movies coming out. But in the last little bit I would make noises of wanting to see it but not actually do it. Now I am not saying it alone. Now I am doing it to.

As for other changes. I have sat and evaluated my writing and the way I do things. As I’ve mentioned as few times before I love organization and knowing what I will be working on next. I’ve streamlined some things I do in my writing and it has freed up some time for me to get more writing done. Ah… more writing means more books. More worlds to explore and build. More characters to bring to everyone. I’m loving this new norm.

Taige Crenshaw
http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/
…increasing the sizzle factor

Blog: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/blog
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17.2.11

La Vie Chez Lisabet


By Simone de Belle Chat

Bonjour, mes amis,

Allow me to introduce myself. I am Simone de Belle Chat, the dominant feline in the household of acclaimed erotica author Lisabet Sarai. Of course, I am using a nom de plume in order to protect my anonymity and Lisabet's. I do not want assorted furry riffraff mobbing my Facebook page and pleading to be my friends.

Lisabet is insanely busy this week, so she asked me if I would be willing to step into her slot at Hitting the Hot Spot. She suggested that an appropriate topic might be "living with a writer".

I was only too happy to oblige. It is fairly rare that I get the opportunity to expound on the pivotal role I play in Lisabet's writing. Only one of her books mentions me in the dedication, but she could not have reached her current pinnacle of success without my support and guidance.

To begin with, I assist her in maintaining the requisite level of organization on her desk. I insist that she reserve sufficient space, available at all times, for me to sit and supervise her efforts. When I decide that the pile of folders and notebooks on the corner of the desk has grown too tall, I take decisive action to encourage her to deal with the problem Papers scattered all over the floor simply cry out to be filed in the proper places. She pretends to be angry, but I know that, deep down, she appreciates my efforts.

I also insure that she keeps her screen and keyboard clean, by the simple expedient of scattering them with fur on a regular basis. In the old days, before she began using a laptop, she had to disassemble her keyboard every few months and vacuum out the interior to prevent the keys from sticking due to the tufts of cat hair blocking the switches. That has not been necessary thus far with the ThinkPad, but I know that she recalls the possibility every time I flick my tail across her fingers as she types.

One critical responsibility that I take very seriously is helping Lisabet to relax. When she is working against a deadline, she may sit and write for hours at a time, her shoulders hunched and her brow knitted in thought. I know that she will be sorry later if she does not get up and stretch. I keep a sharp eye on the clock, and when I decide that she needs a break, I will reach out a well-aimed paw and send her pen flying off into the middle of the room. My precision strike never fails to make her smile, and of course, she has to stand up in order to retrieve the pen. Then she will pet me for a while, exclaiming at the beauty of my velvety fur and my bright topaz eyes. When she returns to her computer, she is relaxed and rejuvenated, thus corroborating the abundant research that indicates cats reduce stress.

Do I influence the content of Lisabet's stories? Not as strongly as I would like. There is a cat in her novel Necessary Madness, a tuxedo tom who is a witch's familiar, and another in (a rather scruffy and mischievous tiger) in Incognito, but Lisabet has yet to create a story with a feline heroine. I do make allowances for the fact that most of her readers are human, but she could try her hand at a cat shape-shifter, couldn't she? In any case, it is not uncommon that she describes a character as having “feline grace”. In fact one might quibble that she uses that phrase too often, but it is, after all, supremely appropriate, n'est ce pas?

The eroticism in Lisabet's writing does not disturb me in the least. Even the most elegant and refined cat (such as I am) is randy enough to make human lust seem tame by comparison. It pleases me when she uses animal metaphors to describe humans in the throes of passion. I only wish that I could communicate to her the exquisite sensation of having a tom grip the ruff of your neck while battering your upraised haunches. One of the nice things about being feline that we are naturally polyamorous. Vive l'amour, I always say.

I have been focusing on the benefits that Lisabet derives from having me in her life. To be honest, I must admit that the situation is favorable from my perspective as well. Since she spends significant periods of time at home at her computer, I am rarely lonely. (When she is away, I do have Mr. Toes, the other cat in the family, for company, but he is far less articulate than Lisabet.) She always makes me feel welcome when I jump up onto her desk and curl up against her warm laptop. She personally feeds me and changes my litter, recognizing that a fastidious cat such as I requires the ultimate in hygiene. Once a year she brings me to the vet for my annual checkup and immunizations. Although I complain bitterly, I am grateful for her dedication to keeping me healthy.

Our apartment has a balcony and our potted plants attract quite an assortment of tasty looking birds. When I am weary of serving as Lisabet's muse, I can sit for hours watching the show.

All things considered, Lisabet and I have an excellent arrangement. If there are any cats out there in cyberspace who are considering entering into a relationship with a writer, I highly recommend it.

Avec les plus chaleureuses salutations,

Simone


16.2.11

I surrender!

There seems to be several threads that run through many of my stories. One of those threads is connected to control and losing control. I really enjoy writing about a character being pursued, wooed and seduced. I like to make my character (usually the female, but not always) reluctant at first and to have all her doubts and fears striped away by lust and love.



You can see this in Sweet Surrender quite clearly. Here's an excerpt for you to enjoy.

Sorry.” His voice spoke beside her, his breath ruffling her hair.

She was startled as she felt his hand on her back, and saw his face bent in close to hers.

“I see things in black and white. I know it’s not always so straight forward.”

“S’ok” She shrugged away from him. “I wasn’t upset.”

He wouldn’t move away from her despite her attempt, and soon she felt her side rubbing against the rough brickwork of the seawall.

“The way I see, you and me is straight forward. We have chemistry and I want to act upon that. I want to lean forward and capture your lips and kiss you ‘til you can’t breathe, and that is only the very beginning of what I want to do.”

She let out a shuddering breath. Taken completely off guard, her wanton body reacted to the suggestions in his voice. She tilted her pelvis up to rub against his, and her hand, originally raised to push him away, landed passively on his shoulder, encouraging him.

“And I know, if I leaned forward now, I could kiss you, and I could feel your body and I could fuck you right here and right now.”

She wanted him, and she tightened her grip on his shirtsleeve, wanting to pull him in, wanting him to fulfil all those sexy promises.

“But I won’t. I won’t until you ask me to. Do you want me to kiss you?”

His lips were so close to hers that she could already feel the force of the kiss. She nodded her head ever so slightly.

“Ask me,” he panted, obviously enflamed by the situation.

She could feel him pressing into her, his body that close to hers.

She wasn’t thinking, only feeling. Desire was the only thing she was aware of as she leaned forward to breathe one short word. “Please.”

As her lips pressed together on the last letter, his lips forced roughly against hers. The kiss was fierce, passionate and attacking, and pressed her against the wall, the sharp edges cutting into her back as she wrapped her arms around him and gave as much back as he released. Their bodies moulded automatically together, their chests rubbing and their legs entwined as the passion mounted.

Sweet Surrender is available now and you can read all about how Tom seduces Helen and if she ever fully gives in.

Also, I have a similar theme running through my next Total-E-Bound release which will be available from the 28th March and is Called Artistic Sights, Heavenly Delights.

Here's the blurb

He paid her to paint his portrait but he really wanted to steal her heart.

Hermione is an independent, single mother who has caught the eye of Philip Haughtington, society high-flyer and well known heart breaker.

He wants to seduce her and she is determined to resist but how long will she be able to hold out against his looks, charm and firm, commanding hand?


And a little teaser excerpt just to keep you going until release day!


Hermione had been outraged by the first spank, then frightened by the second but as his hand raised and fell, her emotions changed. She realized she looked forward to each spank. The pain that had flared in her arse at first had mellowed into pleasure, and she wanted more.

As his hand fell she would raise up on her toes to encourage his spanks. She was sure he could see her do this, and didn’t care. She wanted him to know she was desperate for it. She’d never been spanked before, and was quite surprised by her love of it. She was a strong woman generally, but as a single mother at twenty with no family to help, she’d had to be fiercely independent. She’d always have the upper hand in any dealings, but now she thoroughly enjoyed being on the receiving end of his upper hand as it slammed down against her flesh. It seemed somehow to be freeing.

“Damn, woman, you’re enjoying every moment of this.” Philip groaned and brought Hermione out from her pleasure-induced trance. He stopped spanking and pulled her upright again to pressed himself against her and forcefully place his lips on hers"


I hope you've enjoyed my seductions today and look forward to sharing more with you next month.

14.2.11

Jett's Giftb

Jett's Gift
ISBN:
978-0-85715-462-0
Genre: Gay M/M, Vampire
Publisher: Total E-Bound







Buy HERE
 
Jett is a creature of the night and he’s not happy. In fact, he’s heartbroken and in love. The man who’s torn his world apart has been diagnosed with AIDS. Jett knows he can save Alex, the man who’s stolen his heart, but for some reason he’s been denied.

After weeks, months of frustrated discussions and fighting, Jett’s determined to give it one last try.

Excerpt:
He climbed onto one of the many ledges, his heavy-soled leather boots gripping the worn shingles. Standing tall, he turned his gaze upwards to the night sky, daring the wind to tear him from his precarious perch.

Six hundred years he’d lived in darkness, feeding off the dregs of humanity and finding love with those who, for the most part, had been cast out or shunned for being ‘different.’

Alex was different, and he loved the man like he’d never loved anyone before. Loved him more than he’d thought possible after so long, so very, very long. Their couplings were nothing less than amazing. Alex, as always, was brilliant in the many ways he’d found to pleasure Jett. The lovely man knew how to do things with his mouth and lips that drove Jett mad with desire. The sharpness of Alex’s mortal teeth tugging at flesh long chilled and lust-tainted with the passing of so much time both astonished Jett and impressed him tremendously. He’d thought he was long past the intensity of arousal Alex garnered in him. Thinking of his lover’s amazing oral capabilities made his rod stiffen to majestic proportions and sensitivity. The gentle nipping of the man’s mouth was enough to set his teeth on edge and send flashes of ecstasy up his spine.

The soft flick of a wet tongue sliding across his swollen cock head, its stiffened tip entering the hole at the end, sent a shiver of lust up his spine. Alex’s warm palm cradling Jett’s balls, tugging on them just enough to create that special tension he adored so much. Not pain, but so close it made his eyes water. How he longed for the man’s mouth to open and take him in one long, slow swallow.

His cock thickened even more. The memories were so sweet, so raunchy.

Buy HERE


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13.2.11

Eye Love You

Ah, the eyes. Every time I generate one of those Wordle clouds for a story, they loom large, in huge serif font. I mention eyes a lot.

And why wouldn't I? Windows to the soul with the extraordinary function of darkening when desire strikes, they inhabit a unique place in erotic romance writing. So here's to the whites, the irises, the pupils, the lids, the lashes, the brows. Any colour, any size.

I'm particularly taken with the velvety brown numbers on the cover of my current novella, Sempre. Can you imagine those fixing you in their beam while those lips murmur, "Mi amore." Cos I can. And I do!



To win a copy of this story of operatic passions in Rome, just come and see me at my blog: http://justineelyot.wordpress.com/ - I'm running a competition.

Happy Valent-eye-nes!

12.2.11

Valentine's Day is getting closer...

...and suddenly everyone seems to have love, chocolate, roses and other sweet surpises on their minds. The supermarkets and card shops have been making good use of the "excuse" to put up extra-enticing displays for weeks. I think it's all a secret conspiracy to undermine people's New Year's resolutions to be good and stick with the diet and exercise program - but I digress.

A few months ago, when it was freezing cold and snowing outside, I realized that I better start thinking about my Valentine's story, if I wanted to make the deadline for submission. I loved the "Italian theme" that Total-E-Bound had given us, so I went with it.

One of my heroes, Max, came to me quickly. He was just as miserable as I was at that point, though not for weather-related reasons. No, he had lost a lover and needed a distraction. Since he loves art, his brother decides there is no better way to take his mind off things than to send him to Florence for Valentine's Day.

I've been to Florence myself, and it was great fun to bring all the locations I love so much to life in the book. I only needed a little bit of extra research to make sure I got the facts right, the feel of the place came straight from memory.

Of course, Max runs into a gorgeous Italian hunk named Rocco, who happens to be an art professor. They hit it off on more than one level, but everything isn't as easy as it seems... If you want to know how the story ends, you can find the rest of it in Max's Italian Romance, now out right here at Total-E-Bound:


11.2.11

Ghosts and Valentines

Tis the season of chocolates, love, and ghosts?

You're wondering if you happened to be reading that right, aren't you? Because, what's a ghost got to do with Valentine's Day?

Think about it...even ghosts need love. Vampires, were-critters, hybrids, demons, angels, ghosts...they all need love and Valentine's is a great time to show that love. A nice bottle of blood for the vamps, a thick juicy slice of raw filet mignon for the weres, chocolates and sex magic for the angels and demons. I'm not sure what the hybrids would want--do you give a were-vamp a steak? I get all those combinations mixed up. But just like humans, they want to be in love.

What if love is what saves them? I mean, that is how lots of romance books go. And good thing, too. I want to see that coveted HEA.

In my book, love is what can potentially bring the hero and heroine together, as well as save them. But they have to accept what they can't see and believe the things they do see are real.

Kinda like love. We can't 'see' love. We know what loving gestures look like--a hug, a kiss, nipping sensitive skin, sex...but we can't actually see love.

Unless it's written on chocolate. They put some of the craziest things on and in chocolate. Penises, breasts, handcuffs, I even saw a chocolate whip. Yeah, that's a conversation piece.

So if you were a ghost and you were going to celebrate Valentine's Day...what would you want? I'd want reunited with the one I loved--if that person weren't dead, too. I'd want tons of chocolate because, well, I love chocolate. And I'd want to give someoen a good scare--isn't that the fun part of being a ghost? Scaring the dickens out of people?

It would be for me.

So grab the one you love or one you'd like to love and celebrate the living daylights out of Valentine's Day. I will be. **grin**

And for those chilly nights after Valentine's Day when you need a little white hot pick me up, here's my newest release (out Feb. 21st):
He’s her kinkiest desire, if she’s willing to open her heart and believe in him.

The dead don’t always rest in peace. Some stick around to make the lives of the living hell on Earth. Ryan Black knows the frustration of dealing with the dead.
He’s a Ghost Explorer. He’s conquered houses filled with apparitions, abandoned school buildings that house angry vermin, and managed to woo the female population of Snake Falls, Ohio. But he’s about to face his toughest challenge, convincing sceptical Samara Jacobs she not only shares his gift, but holds his heart.
Women fall at Ryan Black’s feet and Samara’s determined not to be one of the many—that is until she’s forced to work with him. He’s certain ghosts exist and willing to prove it. The more she gets to know the man behind the television persona, she decides the handsome klutz who chases things that go bump in the night isn’t so silly after all. But is he worthy of her love?

This book contains anal sex and a little harmless domination.