And by that I mean two men (or women!) at the same time? I admit it…I haven’t, although I will confess to the fantasy!
In Her Two Doms, uptight, know-what-she –wants Victoria gets two hunky, wonderful men to make her fantasies come true. Victoria is a high-profile attorney with a secret, submissive side.
Once a year she joins a themed cruise to play with a Dom. This year, however, she's in for a surprise. She shows up to meet Master Devon, but he's not there. Instead, there's an ultra-sexy, take-no-prisoners Dom waiting impatiently on her arrival. She's never met this man before, adding an element of playing with a stranger.
Master Gabriel informs her that Master Devon is otherwise occupied. If she wants to play, she must play with him.
She is certain she wants nothing to do with this unyielding man. She attempts to gain the upper hand, but Master Gabriel is prepared to teach this hellion of woman a few things about surrender.
Until Mater Devon shows up to join the scene, Victoria didn’t realize how fantastically overwhelming it would be to have two Doms, two men focused on her pleasure, her wants, her desires.
Now, come on… I admitted it. Will you…? Wouldn’t it be hot if…
Nevermind! I've got a sizzling hot free read guaranteed to warm you up faster than your snuggie!
Enjoy a teasing snippet from my popular free read No Panties...
It was Friday night and Lisa was going out with her girls. Tonight she was going to have some fun. She deserved it after the week of hell she’d put in at work.
She pivoted in the mirror taking in her curvy silhouette from all angles. Her honey-toned skin looked great with the black dress, making the splashes of white flowers running down the sides of her hips more dramatic. It was tight in all the right places and made her feel super sexy.
Lisa looked at her ass and frowned. Maybe it was too tight. The soft material hugged the rounded curve of her backside before flaring out into ruffles. She was distracted by the visible lines of her panties.
In a quick decision she reached under the silky dress and pulled off her black lace panties. Turning around again, she was happy with the result. No lines and her ass looked amazing.
She stepped into her strappy heels and headed out of her apartment. The warm wind swirled around her and up under her dress making her shiver as the air caressed her bare skin.
Wearing no panties was a definite thrill. She felt brazen and bold and just a little turned on as she waited for the train. Having a secret did wonders to her libido if the tingle pulsing between her legs was any indicator.
Too bad she was single. No lover to unleash her passion on.
The doors opened and Lisa stepped inside the train, happy to find the car practically empty, save one man leaning against the opposite door.
An attractive man, Lisa acknowledged to herself in the few seconds she took in his appearance. Dressed in a dark suit, he looked every bit the GQ model with stylish sandy brown hair, dark brown eyes and a profile that made her take a second look.
Now he was looking at her, his eyes slowly traveling up her heels and up over the rest of her dress. Lisa grabbed the pole to hold on as the train took off flustered by his appraisal. Turning her back away from him, Lisa felt a rush of heat flood into her veins.
Her phone vibrated inside of her purse and she fumbled to reach it as the train rocked and lurched along the tracks overlooking the city below.
Was he still watching her?
The thought made her palms sweaty, her fingers clumsy and when the train came to a sudden abrupt stop, she dropped the slim phone. The plastic device hit with a clatter and Lisa cursed, quickly bending over to retrieve it.
The sharp intake of breath behind her made freeze for a mere second before grabbing the phone and straightening.
He saw. He knew her little secret. Lisa’s heart was beating so fast, she barely heard the conductor’s voice coming over the intercom. Flustered, she forced herself not to turn and look at his face as she smoothed her dress down.
The train came to a stop, the doors opened to a throng of people pushing their way into the car and every seat was taken.
“Here...take my seat.”
The deep voice behind her was warm, totally authoritative and Lisa knew it was him without even having to look.
The older woman next to her smiled with gratitude and Lisa felt the sexy Samaritan stand up behind her.
She could feel his eyes on her skin and tried not to shiver. Another stop and more people crowded on the train, pressing Lisa more towards the back of the car. Someone pushed and she lost her footing stumbling backwards into him.
“Whoa,” he breathed in her ear.
Lisa couldn’t move, couldn’t hardly breathe. Each breath brought a whiff of expensive cologne to her nose. She was pressed against his chest and her body reacted in a million different ways. She could feel his erection through the material of his trousers and her pussy went liquid.
The conductor boomed onto the intercom to inform the passengers of a delay and a groan went through the train. The two of them were sandwiched together with his tall frame against the door and passengers crowded in front of them.
“Looks like we aren’t moving anytime soon,” he said softly, his hands steadying her as the train lurched to a stop.
Lisa blinked and nodded, acutely aware of his hand on her hips, his fingers gently pressing into her thighs. Her nipples tightened painfully as she sucked in a desperate breath. He hadn’t removed his hands and Lisa knew she should do it, but she didn’t.
Just when she thought he was going to move his hands, she pressed her bottom into his erection that was now rock hard. His hands tightened on her hips for a moment before moving to cup her ass.
Lisa let out a little gasp, grateful for the background chatter. His hands kneaded the soft curve of her ass cheeks and Lisa bit her lip to keep from moaning. She pressed her thighs together and her enlarged clit sent pulses of pleasure through her body.
She didn’t know his name and she didn’t care. She just wanted him to touch her.
You've got to see what happens next! Read the entire free story NOW!
Just imagine my surprise when I checked my email after my return and found out that my novella "The Accidental Sub" has been chosen as book of the month for March by the fabulous readers at BDSM Book Reviews!
I'm absolutely thrilled and feeling like a star right now.
So, in celebration of this fabulous event, I decided to give away a copy of "The Accidental Sub". (If you've already read that one, you can alternatively choose to swap that for a copy of "Hot Buttered Strumpet".) All you have to do is leave a comment below with your email (and detailing which book you'd like) and I'll choose a winner on Sunday.
I'll be back here with more news next month on the 19th. Or drop by my blog A DARK KIND OF DESIRE any time.
The differences we saw as a reader led to a long debate of with both sides listing out points and countering why we liked, disliked or didn’t care enough about the book. We get loud and emotionally about our point of view. It was interesting. Since these happen sometimes in public we had others around us who had read the book chiming in and those who hadn’t asking more about it. The cross points of feeling was invigorating. As usual when you get readers together this led to even more discussions of various author’s work we liked, did not like, the reasons why or why not. It was a very reveling conversation.
This again all came back to the emotion of writing. No matter if your book is not liked or liked. It has created an emotion. As an author this is what I want to do. Whether it is good or bad. I want you to feel it. The one thing I do not want is apathy. That is like a punch to any writer. Please NO APATHY. Give me any emotion and I will feel that I have done my job.
Now I am not saying if I get a bad review or email that a reader didn’t like my work I won’t get a little upset at first. But when it comes down to it I will be content and happy. I created a reaction.
I touched the reader in someway. From that little debate I had the other day. I realized that people would remember you if they have enough emotion whether good or bad. In our discussion I was curious of those who didn’t seem to have an opinion on the book either way. I asked them why. And I listened closely filing their thoughts away for future reference. The most prevalent one was they had no connection to the story. But as I listened to them talk I realized they actually did have an emotion to it. Although they didn’t outright dislike the story they didn’t like it either. They were that middle ground. They had a reaction on both sides. Thankfully they were not moved at all. At least the book created some reaction.
Whenever I leave a discussion about books I come away with a few new authors to try as well as some fellow book lovers to talk about books with. We all decided to meet again to talk books. All in all we came to the conclusion that just because someone didn’t like a book doesn’t mean what they saw as flaws I or another reader wouldn’t see as treasures.
…increasing the sizzle factor
Chat Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/crenshawcafe
I'm going to introduce you to the new vampire on the block, well, if you've read the other two books in the series you already know him a little. Our Kyle is one of a band of three friends who recently became vampires. He's the most naive of the group and even as a vampire he's the one you'd most like to take home to your parents. He's just so sweet.
He lives at home with his God-fearing Granny and is scared stiff of telling her that he is in fact undead. He still works at the supermarket with his two best mates, Josh (the star of Stopping Point) and Steve and his life is pretty much unchanged. Well apart from the regular visits to The Point, the sex with strange girls and drinking blood to live thing.
But his afterlife gets turned upside down when he meets one particularly icy customer called Janine. Fancy reading about how they met? Okay for you here's a snippet from their very first interaction at The Point.
I loved my Gran. She was the best. It wasn’t that bad being a vampire. I’m glad I found out about The Point early on, though. That bar saved my skin a time or two. I’m not sure what I would have done if I hadn’t discovered it. Starved to death, probably. There’s no way on God’s green Earth that I would have been able to kill someone, even if I did need their blood to live myself.
The ten second rule worked well, and there were always willing victims at The Point. I thought it was a bit sleazy at first, approaching a woman, offering her money then taking her off into one of the back rooms for sex, an orgasm and a ten second sucking, but then I met Janine. It was not a fairy tale beginning. I stood on her toe and in reaction she poured her drink down my front.
“Oh, I am sorry,” I flustered. “Are you all right?”
Her frosty look was not just down to the colour of her eyes but the emotion behind it. If my blood had been heated she would have frozen it in my veins. I have never seen such blue eyes before—my own are pale and mellow; hers are like frost on the coldest winter’s day.
“I am fine, thank you,” she snapped, “but now I need a new drink.”
“Let me get you one.” I was disturbed by the intensity of her stare. “What are you drinking?”
“Red wine.” She sniffed and I turned to the bar to buy her one, wondering how I’d explain the stain on my shirt to Gran when I got home. When I passed her the replacement glass, she graced me with an icy ‘Thank you.’
“Again, I’m sorry,” I said. Even as a vampire I was incapable of dealing with someone disliking me. “I will watch where I put my huge feet in future.”
“Look,” she said, placing a hand on my arm, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so snappy. Thank you for replacing my drink for me.”
“Oh, it’s the least I could do,” I replied, then I decided to do something unusual for me. I plucked up all my courage and waded in. “I know it’s a bit of an outside chance and I’m ready for you to shoot me down, but I couldn’t help but notice you’re wearing your blood drops and I was wondering if you’d like to come back to the VIP rooms with me.”
You see, regulars at The Point could purchase little pins in the shape of a blood drop. One meant they were newbies, two meant they’d been regularly drunk from and three was for the few who’d been fed upon fifty times or more. Most vampires would avoid approaching people who didn’t display these drops, whereas some purposefully avoided them. I looked for women with two drops at least, and Janine had three.
“Well, sure, why not?” She smiled for the first time since I’d met her and it was a beautiful smile that completely changed her face for the good. “But I do things differently, it’s only fair to tell you that now.”
“Different can be good,” I replied with a smirk.
“And I’m expensive,” she added. “I won’t even move from here for less than one hundred pounds.”
“I can afford that,” I said without thinking. I was at the time working in a supermarket, but as a vamp I found I spent less money on consumables and more on blood. I was hungry and I wanted her, which seemed strange, even to me. She’d been less than nice and so terribly icy, but there had been something in her smile that had sparked my desire.
“Well, lead on, then.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the VIP doors.
I wasn’t sure I was doing the right thing, but at that point the blood lust had taken over. I nodded to Andre on the way past into the VIP area; he’d been a security guard in life and was even more intimidating in death.
“Is room nine free?” my partner asked. “It’s my favourite number,” she explained to me.
“You’re in luck, Janine,” the female vamp on the other side of the door from Andre replied. “That room has just been cleaned.”
We walked along the corridor to the specified room. Vampire hearts, though technically unneeded, still thud heavily in dramatic situations and at that moment I was more nervous than the night I’d lost my virginity.
All right, I know I am undead and therefore meant to be macho and incapable of fear, but I’m afraid cowardice was one of my human character traits that continued after death.
“Okay—what’s your name again?” she asked as I closed the door behind us. None of the doors in The Point locked, so the humans felt safe. Truth is, if a vamp went crazy and wouldn’t stop after ten seconds of sucking, the person would be dead before the security vamps could help them. The greedy vamp would be kicked out of the club for eternity, but that really isn’t much compensation and as such it isn’t a fact we make public.
“Kyle,” I replied, “and you’re Janine, right?”
“Yes, that’s me,” she confirmed, distracted from the conversation as she pulled off her patent black shoes. “Now, this is how it will go.” She stood up and pulled the clip from her bright red and loosely curled hair so it swished around her shoulders.” I am going to come but you are not to touch me, not one finger, right?” She slipped the short, sexy, black dress she was wearing down her body till it pooled on the ground at her feet.
“Okay,” I said, my eyes fixed on her naked curves and anticipating the next revelation. I could feel my mouth watering. She really was abundantly beautiful. She was soft and I wanted to squeeze her close to me.
And Kyle's afterlife gets even more complicated when he meets Sharon...but I think I've given you enough for one day. If you want to know more you can pick up your copy of The Vampire's Choice from Total-E-Bound today! All three books are available here.
If you visit victoriablisse.co.uk you will find a contest open to win the first too books in the series, please pop over and comment if you're new to the Point Vamp world and see if you can win yourself a couple of hot ebooks! But remember:
Then buy yourself a bite of blisse!
I think what I find to be the most interesting thing about menage stories is the challenge in creating a plausible scenario. We all suspend disbelief regularly when reading paranormals and many other fictional situations; but what makes us really fall in love with characters and their fantastical situations, is that the author has done a great job at building a world that makes some sort of sense. Even if we absolutely know that this would never, ever happen in real life, the fun is when you find that story that makes you believe. It's that moment when we as readers go, "Oh, okay. I can see how that could happen if Alice fell down a very long rabbit hole. Cool!"
I feel that same challenge when writing a menage, because it's also a romance. It's super simple to write an erotica scenario with a menage or more set-up, and then everyone gets together for a quick, one-time tumble. Not that there's anything wrong with that! But my characters tend to really care about one another, and are fighting obstacles to be together like in any other romance. It's just that they are also trying to figure out how to make it work with more than one person. Or three. Dare I say four or five???? That can be particularly tricky with a menage or more situation. How often do you meet someone and they say, "I'd like you to meet my partners - we're all together now." Then there are the physical logistics. But I must confess to something else here: the possibilities are endless! That is why I love writing menage; one can try out so many new and unusual combinations. *wink*
How about you? Do you like menage or more? What is it about a fantastic menage or more romance that keeps you coming back for more? Keep a lookout for All Together Now, out on May 7th.
Okay, now that got your attention. Grin. That was the point. Was the point to get my muse's attention. Both of them.
One, I've got two muses. Yep. Mine and Megan's. Although I'm pretty sure Megan's got a couple muses she's hiding. She's a brat that way. And Two, because I've got stories to write and characters chattering, but my brain won't focus. I needed mancandy to get it there.
That picture up above? Yep. That worked. What's not to like about a chiseled man chest, a little hair, floppy hair at that (yes, Kealie, I said floppy hair--she knows I've got a thing for men with 'crazy ass hair'). I've got a story I started a little while back for an Inspired by Joe blog hop and I needed that little bit to help me get it going again. I'm a wanderer. I wander from stories and need that little something to get me back to where I was. That picture above, it worked. Grin. I'm now a happy girl.
Speaking of a happy girl, I'd like to share a snippet from one of my novellas with you. Sure. Which one? Love Remembers!
If he’s going to get her back, he’ll need to prove that Love Remembers.
A veteran of the war in Koroneia, Gregorius wants only one woman for his bed. She made his heart sing the moment he saw her in the markets and for the past seven years he’s hunted far and wide for her.
Once he finds her, he’ll prove his love never forgot her.
Aspasia isn’t the mirthful girl from the markets. Circumstances beyond her control forced her into service to Gregorius’ bitterest enemy. When she finds herself in Gregorius’ arms, can she let go of the past in order to have the future she deserves?
Only if love remembers.
This book contains a hero bent on finding his first love and a heroine determined to let him have his wicked way...in the garden, on the benches, in the olive grove... He’s not about to let a little matter of time away get between them.
Gregorius smoothed through her hair. “You are scared. No need. I will never harm you.” He feathered kisses over her lips. The coil of tension in the pit of her stomach lessened a bit. When his tongue danced over the seam of her mouth, she gasped and granted him entrance.
He caressed her hip, sending a shimmer of heat racing along her veins. She pressed her thighs together, losing her confidence. When he touched the outcropping of curls at her labia, she backed away from him.
“My love, you are safe…and sexy,” he murmured and slid the sheet from her body. “Every bit of you is beautiful.” Starting at her throat, he blazed a trail of fire down her body to her nipples.
She moaned as he flicked the tightened nubs. No other man cared about her pleasure…only Gregorius. He sucked one beaded tip into his mouth. She felt the pull deep down between her legs and groaned.
“Tell me you like this,” he murmured, his voice a sensual rasp.
Like? Words couldn’t describe how much she enjoyed him. She gathered her wits as Gregorius moved lower to her navel. He was not going to kiss her folds, was he? Panic-stricken, she grabbed his head to pull him away.
“I want to taste you.”
She stared at the ceiling. Every muscle in her body wound tight as his tongue dived into her core. Flat licks, slow caresses, gentle sucking—all combined to bring a tingle to every part of her being. She cried out, but no sound filled the chamber. Stars sparkled behind her closed eyes.
“You taste like wine and I am addicted.” Gregorius lapped at her, heightening her sensations.
She panted. “Goddess…”
Want to know more about Wendi Zwaduk? Here you go:
I always dreamt of writing the stories in my head. Tall, dark, and handsome heroes are my favorites, as long as he has an independent woman keeping him in line. I earned a BA in education at Kent State University and currently hold a Masters in Education with Nova Southeastern University.
I love NASCAR, romance, books in general, Ohio farmland, dirt racing, and my menagerie of animals. I’m published with Total-E-Bound, Changeling Press, Liquid Silver Books and The Wild Rose Press. Come join me for this fantastic journey!
On Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/wendizwaduk/
On Google+ : https://plus.google.com/115637543946745656739/posts
A couple of months ago I posted on how my long-suffering husband has to listen to all my weird literary research questions, no doubt wondering "What kind of mind thinks of these things?"
But this month it occurred to me that there are two kinds of literary research - theoretical and practical. And, as an erotic romance writer, they can't be all bad, surely?
"Is it possible for a man to get hard again five minutes after coming?"
"What's the best position to be in if there's a camera at the end of the bed?"
"I need to know how it works in this position - can we try?"
My husband is not the kind of man to shy away from new activities in the bedroom, but his imagination usually sticks at the three same points - "anal", "threesome" and "install a pole in the attic". I'm pretty sure I've seen an expression somewhere between resignation and terror when I've made another of my suggestions, or asked which part of the body is most likely to knock off the rear-view mirror during car sex. (I always thought you'd kick it off, but he thought it'd be my rear end. I don't know if that applies to everyone or if it's just that I have a substantial arse.)
I bet he complains about this to his friends. "Your wife only wants sex once a month? You don't know you're born. You wouldn't believe the position mine bent me into last night - and then she spent ten minutes taking notes."
Oh, poor hard-done-by man. Maybe tonight I'll give him a real treat. "I'll tell you what, honey - let's do it your way tonight. Let's just sleep." :)
I've had a manuscript in my "virtual cupboard" -- ie my hard-drive -- for more than 10 years now. It's a historical romance about a nobleman-turned-famous-highwayman, and an impoverished noblewoman who tries to save herself from an unwanted marriage by turning highwayman herself. There's a lot of stuff that's good about it aaannnddd there's a lot of stuff that needs a very thorough edit. You know, a typical novel that began life saved on a 3 1/4 floppy; is there a statute of limitations rule about that?
I've decided that in this year's free moments I will embark on the great editorial challenge/rewriting adventure to see what great new stories I can craft from the larger whole. Do you have similar projects planned for this year? What's languishing in your virtual cupboards?
Enjoy your long weekend!
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Rachel on the web
|The bunny who came to visit my garden last April!|
Will he return?
In south Texas when spring is in the air, you have to shake a tail feather to get your herbs and flowers planted. April is usually 70-80 degrees with breezes you write and read about. Think: gentle rustle through the treetops or, the sweet breeze in my long blonde hair. Plants, tender little shoots, adore this and spread their leaves up up up. (Yes, this makes me poetic, although the words are nothing to write home about.) May comes with sunshine, little rain, and a gradual heating that by June 1 can climb to 100 degrees. (Yes, we know first hand the effects of global warming. We see how the drought of the past few years has cracked our ground cover, what little there is of it here where caliche is an inch beneath the soil.)
But this morning as I began edits on a manuscript I have received from my editor yesterday, I sat down to complete my due diligence. Checking off my editor's list of items, I happily skipped along until viola! I had completed all but the most thought-provoking aspects.
Take a break then?
I did, Dear Reader.
After two or so hours of editing, anyone needs a break. It can be tedious. Definitely not creative. So I said, Enough! Have a drink! Lunch! And put those 3 little pots into your garden.
How does my garden grow in what will become the Hot House of Summer in Texas?
Fifteen years since I moved here, fifteen years of killing nearly every green thing I put my hand to, I finally have solutions to nurturing plants. I use pots that I can move as the sun travels the sky during the summer months, which here—hold on to your hat—can really mean as long as April through November.
How to begin to weed a garden?
Same as with a manuscript. You start with the ugly stuff, the obvious errors of spelling and grammar, syntax. Then if you haven't already, the errors in logic must come next.
Last week in my garden, I weeded the big ugly stuff. (I had done this job on my WIP before I sent it off to my editor a few weeks ago!)
Today, I was ready to do a bit more. On both my manuscript and my garden.
- I weeded more. Moral: A writer can edit until she/he is blue. Weeding your garden is a fine idea. Over-editing your WIP might mean you are taking your Voice out of it.
- I rearranged some pots for annuals. Moral: In a manuscript, some elements need to be moved for effectiveness or drama. Move too much, you lose the natural flow or feel of the original story.
- I gave everything a shot of Juice! Moral: I deleted the repetitive words. My editor calls them echoes. I like that. Echoes. Hello, hello, helloooo. This makes the text more dramatic, charming, too.
- I found a few more weeds. Moral: I changed the remaining verbs that sounded like dreck to ones that SAID something, for godssakes. (Yes, I am BIG on great verbs. The verb to be and all its forms? Shakespeare used it well. Once. 'To be or not to be, that is the question.' Amen.)
- I pruned my roses. While I may. I hear you out there snorting, but I have learned that roses here like to reach for this scorching sun and in the process, they spend all their time growing upward and never flourishing. Moral: Once I finish this little blog, I am back to the final stage, the bigger challenge of the final edit, looking at all my editor's comments once more. Then walking away, I will ask myself the final Big Questions: Is this story perfect? Is it complete? Is it what I intended?
- I secured the fence. And came inside to write this and tell you about it. Moral: A family of bunnies came last year and munched on my basil and parsley, then started on my impatiens and carnations. Not until they had nibbled for a day or so did I notice. Moral: Who are these creatures? BAH! I think they are the pirates who come to eat the fruit of our hard labors, stealing from authors what profits should be theirs! Yes, this is a plug to kill all pirates, who are killing our joy in creating. And now back to our regularly scheduled topic: editing.
- Finally, in gardens, one often grows more than one intended. Or perhaps the yield is not quite what one hoped for. Moral: Celebrate when the work is just as you conceived it. And if not quite, then here is the motivation to write the next work, make it perfectly state what you originally dreamt.
Simply leave a comment and I'll announce a winner on Friday.
Time is running out.
William jumped back as somebody erupted out of the water, gasping for breath.
William gazed at that face and cried inside with joy.
“Katie?” he whispered, not wanting to disturb the image. He could live with her here, like this. He didn’t want her to disappear as she had so many times before in his mind. He wanted this to last as long as possible.
She stood twisting the water from her hair.
“William.” He heard the laughter in her voice as she said his name.
Getting to his feet, he approached the water, holding out a hand for her to take.
“No taking my blood, now.” She wagged a finger in his direction.
“Not without your permission,” he promised.
Their hands touched and any doubts he’d had came crashing down, rushing away from his body like a bad cloud. This was the person he wanted. The woman he wanted to be with.
They were mated in the most basic of terms, just enough to satisfy the council and keep them from hurting her, but they hadn’t had the time to complete the mating, for him to speak the bonding words as he took her innocence and made her his.
He wanted to find her and make the mating complete. To feel Katie’s naked body within his arms. To take everything she had to offer and to give her all of himself as well.
No protection, just sheer, naked need consuming them both.
William shook his head, trying to clear the erotic images from his mind. There would be time for him to make love to her soon enough. Seeing her could only mean she was out there, somewhere.
He guided her from the water, his eyes never leaving hers.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured.
“I bet you say that to all the girls, especially if they’re wet,” she teased, chuckling at his comment. William blushed at the innuendo.
Buy Link: Total-E-Bound