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The Devil is in The Details - Historical Accuracy in the Gin & Jazz Series

Casting Call, the sixth installment of the Gin & Jazz series was just released a week ago. In this one we get actor Will Carmichael and director André Chenard’s Happily-Ever-After. For those of you following the series, you already know that Will is a bit of a playboy and André is a serious artist influenced by the newly developed Russian Method acting technique.

Historicals are always a unique challenge. Even though most stories require some form of research, with a historical, every single word or phrase – never mind whether zippers had been invented yet – has to be stringently checked. So far, I’ve only come across one blooper in the series, and it occurs in the first book. When I verified something to see if it was around in the 1920’s, the sources I came across stated it was from that decade. Once Hollywood Bound had already been published and I was working on subsequent installments, I discovered another article that gave the exact date it was first around as being 1927. Hollywood Bound begins in 1924. Oops.

I’m purposely being vague about what I got wrong for two reasons: I don’t want to take a reader out of the story when they stumble across it since it’s so obscure, the majority of people reading would never even notice. However for you hardcore history buffs out there, I wanted to confess and offer the first person who PM’s me at my Facebook page an autographed paperback copy of Hollywood Bound.

While writing a historical novel might be fun, it can also be exhausting. However, one of the things I enjoy so much about it is that it gives me the opportunity to get lost in another era. I’ve been working on the Gin & Jazz series for a year now, and still have a few more books to go. By the time I’m done, I could almost teach a class on the era, complete with food, slang, fashion, prices and locations. And in order for it to be just as fun for the reader, the details have to be accurate without being tedious.

I’ll leave you with a sexy little snippet between Will and André from Casting Call (Gin & Jazz 6) that includes some era appropriate details:

As soon as they arrived in his private office at the back of the building that would be the setting for his next motion picture, he found himself trembling. Everything about them being alone together in the ten by ten room inspired André to want to cross the line, before even one crank of the camera had been turned. They had never had complete privacy before. The film wasn’t due to begin for at least another week—there was no one else in the building. He couldn’t meet Will’s eyes.
Keeping his head down, he gestured for Will to sit in the wooden chair next to his simple desk and oak swivel chair. He entered his small private bathroom to dig around in the cabinet for something he could use. Not sure exactly what was in there, he was fairly certain he had used some mercurochrome on his palm after he’d cut it. It had been sliced as he’d cleaned up the broken ceramic shards of a black panther statue. He smiled as he remembered the moment. Jack Stone had shoved it over as he’d finished filming his last scene with André. Jack had been gloriously unrestrained.
Continuing to paw through the cabinet after he’d checked the various half-crumpled paper bags containing assorted items next to the sink, he shoved aside thoughts of the current scenario. An unrelenting ache to hold Will, touch him, to kiss him bloomed inside of André. And fear that he had made a mistake, that Will could never reach the depths of emotion Jack had so openly given. He sighed, a rueful sounding noise. Detecting movement, he turned to see Will standing in the doorway.
“Everything well in hand, old bean?” He chuckled. “I beg your pardon. André?” He glanced around the close quarters of the washroom. “I thought the random collection of papers and books strewn about your office was overwhelming—however, I believe this area wins in terms of clutter.”
Will was in no way mocking him. His eyes had a tantalising gleam once André allowed himself to meet his gaze. Eyes that had darkened, that radiated desire. They were within a foot of one another and Will no longer reeked of another man’s spend. Instead, there was a refreshing aroma of citrus—oranges and lemons. It was the scent of California—sunshine, fresh and crisp. It was Will.
Swallowing hard, he was sure that he would remain glued to where he stood for all of time. Will broke his gaze, glancing past his shoulder.
“Is this what you were searching for?”
As Will leaned over André to reach around him, his left shoulder pressed against André’s arm. Before another thought arose, he grabbed the side of Will’s jaw, turned his head and captured his mouth in a furious kiss. It was a simultaneous explosion of need. The more André drove his tongue into the heated cavern of Will’s mouth, the more Will answered with frantic lips. Opening up to him unreservedly, he sucked on André’s probing appendage, drawing him farther in.
Breathless, André couldn’t bear to end their connection. Clutching Will’s shoulders, he then shoved him back against the wall by the doorframe, knocking over various and sundry items, kicking paper bags out of the way. He pressed against Will, holding him there with his body. There was barely any room, but in that moment André couldn’t be bothered to care. Releasing himself from any further concerns, anything that would get in the way of his sexual frenzy, he continued to mash his lips against Will’s. He ground his throbbing cock against Will’s swollen erection and a deep moan rumbled from the actor.
André let his hands roam freely, memorising with his fingers and palms the lightly muscled frame of Will’s spectacular form, his strong thighs, his muscled ass. He sensed Will’s submission, the way he melted and arched into every caress from André, every seeking touch. Will seemed ready to allow himself to be taken in any way André wished. Never before had he yearned to overpower a man as much as he did in that moment.
Reluctantly, he broke the kiss and gulped in air. Will didn’t look away—he stared at André through hooded eyes, his breathing frantic. André removed his glasses, tossing them into the porcelain sink behind him. The corners of Will’s mouth lifted and André became intent on encouraging them into a full and contented smile.
“Unbutton your trousers and let them fall to the floor. Don’t take them all the way off, let them pool at your ankles.”
Get your copy of Casting Call:


Secret Fire (Uniform Encounters 5) Hot Excerpt Plus Contest

This has been a busy month for me so far - Secret Fire came out on May 1st and I'm readying for another Gin & Jazz release on June 6th, as well as putting the finishing touches on the next Uniform Encounters installment! Phew, I'm tired. But never too tired to share naughty excerpts or contest info.

From now until May 21st, Totally Bound is running an exciting contest where you can win 3 M/M e-books: Secret Fire by me, Riding & Regrets by Bailey Bradford and Ask the Oracle by JJ Black. To enter into the drawing CLICK HERE. Winners will be announced at the Facebook party on May 21st where you can also chat up me, Bailey and JJ. Come and join the party HERE.

Okay, now for the naughty excerpt part. In this scene, police officer Zach and Fire Marshal Daryl are right at the beginning of what they hope will become a lasting relationship. The one thing where neither one of them have any doubts is in the bedroom. They are so compatible in fact, that Daryl is hoping to share even more kinky fun with Zach - if he agrees....

“You want me to grab us another beer? There’s something I’d like to discuss.”
A look passed over Daryl’s face that appeared to border on fear.
“Is that because I’m going to need it?”
Already standing, Zach bent to give him a quick peck on the lips. “Relax. It’s nothing bad.”
Looking uncertain, Daryl nodded. After getting the beers and sitting back down again, Zach considered Daryl. The vulnerability in him was more present than ever. And the seriousness he had initially assumed meant that Daryl was boring and hostile, Zach recognised as being something else entirely. It was actually more of an indicator of the depth of feeling inside of him.
A person I can get serious about.
That didn’t mean they still shouldn’t discuss things—especially things that related to the intimate part of their relationship.
“Last night was easily the best, most erotic, satisfying night of my life.” He chuckled. “Especially once we got to the part where I was satisfied.”
Daryl frowned. “But?”
“Um, so, are you like a Dom or something?”
Daryl widened his eyes. “What? You think I got a dungeon in the garage along with the treadmill?”
“Don’t dungeons need to be underground?”
Daryl shook his head and rubbed his hand across his beard. “I don’t know what is involved with dungeon etiquette and I’m most certainly not a Dom.” He frowned at Zach. “Is it that you like to top too?”
“No, that’s not it at all. I’m perfectly happy with the assignment of roles in our relationship. I was just curious because that was pretty intense last night. I’d like to know what to expect, what you expect from me.”
Zach could see that Daryl was lost in thought, frowning, his lips pressed in a hard line. “You really liked what we did last night?”
“My God, yes. I don’t know how else to express it to you.”
He nodded. “Then would you like to experiment some more with me, doing things like that?”
Zach sucked in a deep breath. He was trying to remain detached and conversational about the whole subject but his dick had its own ideas.
“Define ‘things like that’.”
Daryl shrugged. “Whatever you want.”
“How about whatever we want?”
“Yeah, okay.” He paused, a struggle seemingly going on inside him. “Just so you know, I’m not a true BDSM guy or anything like that. But I like being the top, controlling my man, controlling his pleasure. Things like tying up, blindfolding.” Daryl coughed and wiggled in his chair, his face flushing. “If you ever wanted, I wouldn’t be averse to trying other things like spanking or… You know…plugs, dildos, whatever you want.”
After Zach was sure that his jaw hadn’t hit the ground of the bar, he gaped at Daryl. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced about the room, his embarrassment a tangible thing.
Daryl peeked at him. “Too much?”
“Not at all. I haven’t done a lot of that stuff before, but hearing you talk about it leads me to suggest we get the hell out of here, put in some practice then do some shopping online at Kinky Toys R Us.”
“Is that a real shop?”
“I have no fucking idea.” Zach stood. “Let’s worry about it later.” He clapped his hands. “Why are you still seated? Let’s go.”
Daryl snorted. “I enjoy you, Zach.”
“I’ll be more enjoyable tied to your bed. Time’s wasting.”
Daryl shook his head. “Whatever you want, darlin’.”
To read about some more fun with Zach and Daryl, pick up your copy of Secret Fire HERE



A young hot lover man to fulfil your every desire—No strings attached—Satisfaction guaranteed.


That is the premise for my latest release!

 A lover so good he's PLATINUM—

Marcus....Platinum Pleasures

A wickedly sexy case of mistaken identity lands our heroine in a whole lot of amazing sex when she hires a lover for the evening. 


Ainsley’s doorbell chimed again. Oh goodie. She clasped her hands together and shivered with anticipation. Whoever her mystery man was, he was back—and she was ready to play.

Standing tall, holding in her stomach in and smiling widely, she braced herself for what lay ahead as she headed for the foyer. She was intrigued by whether anyone would be there or not this time. Maybe it was some kind of hide and seek. 

Kinky hide and seek, she hoped.

Her hand trembled on the knob as she opened her front door.
“Oh,” she said, surprised to see a man holding a large box of chocolates out to her. A very good looking younger man with intense blue eyes. Good, she’d asked for that. So good.
“Chocolates,” she purred, eyeing the trademark famous wrapping. “I love chocolate, especially Swiss.” 

Casting her eyes up, she surveyed the hunk before her. Suit and tie. Umm. Not quite what she’d been expecting, but then what did someone who came to fulfill your deepest sexual desires wear? They couldn’t very well parade around in their undies. Embarrassed, she glanced down at her mostly naked self then back up at her guest. His vivid blue eyes were glued to her body, his mouth agape.

“Oh, do come in,” she said, flattered that his gaze lingered on her as she held the door wide for him to enter. 
“Uh...uhhh,” he said after a pause, stepping cautiously across the threshold and into the marble foyer.

Damn, he was undeniably sexy, just what she’d asked for. And oh so young, what was he, twenty-five, if that? And that look on his face...he looked confused, as if unsure. Well she’d be only too happy to kiss that look right off him. Oh, this was going to be fun.

“Miss Simmons?” he asked, shifting uncomfortably.

She pressed a finger across his lips to silence him. “Ah, no names, the company said so, remember?” she said, not removing her finger. “Call me...Mrs M.” She’d never been married, even though she’d lived with Charles for more years than proved wise. The very thought of going by a pseudonym sent an empowering thrill through her. Very Mrs Robinson, if she did say so herself.

“Mrs M,” he said, stepping back. Her finger fell from his lips. “I came to deliver”—he reached into his pocket as if looking for something—“to deliver... Damn,” he said, still searching for something.

“Later.” She was in no mood for any paperwork. It would just ruin the mood. As nervous as she was, now that her fantasy lover was there before her, she could barely wait for him to take control so she could just relax and be pleasured. Just as the Fantasies Incorporated’s website promised.
But he just stood there.

She waited, wondering if he was going to take charge soon. He didn’t make a move and she was nervous. Maybe she was supposed to make the first gesture? After all, she was the customer.

“Come...follow me,” she said, deciding she’d better make the first gesture. Leading the way through her cream and gold upholstered expanse of a living room, she stopped midway, sensing he wasn’t following. Glancing back, she saw he still stood in her wide front entrance.
“Well, come on,” she prompted, taking the moment to admire his sandy blond hair with the jagged edges that brushed just below his ears. She loved it when these young men wore their hair a little disheveled and longer like he did. She couldn’t wait to tangle her fingers through it while he pleasured her. Fucked her. Her cheeks flamed hot at the thought.

Her fantasy man smiled, almost shyly, his brow arching slightly. A cocky look, if ever she’d seen one. What a turn on that was, he must be playing into this whole Mrs Robinson theme. He nodded and stepped out of her foyer and into her home, following her to the opulent living room. Her body surged with anticipation. This was going to be the best Valentine’s present ever. Glancing back, she saw his eyes were riveted to her ass. She grew wet at the thought.

“I was expecting you.” She filled the silence with a nervous laugh as she stopped at the well-stocked bar on the far side of the room. The silver ice bucket gleamed with condensation, and the two crystal flutes she’d set beside it shimmered against the setting sun. Beyond their refreshments was one of the best views in Beverly Hills.

“You were?” He gulped, his Adam’s apple showing as he swallowed.

She nodded. “I have champagne do drink champagne, don’t you?” she inquired. Not waiting for the answer, she pulled the chilled bottle from the ice bucket. Slow droplets of condensation dripped onto the marble floor. “Here, you uncork it, I’m hopeless at it.” She handed him the bottle and sat down one of her bar stools, almost sliding off in her silky peignoir.

He smiled and loosened his tie. Oh, yum. He caught her gaze and he blushed. Fuck—did he really just blush? Oh, he played the Mrs Robinson thing better than she could have imagined.

Ainsley watched as he took the bottle and began to efficiently unwrap the foil, his nimble fingers working the cork loose with no effort. A slight pop uttered but no messy spillage. She liked that. Seemed he’d done this part before at least, as he poured two glasses.

“Thank you,” she said as he handed her a glass. “What should I call you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Mar...” he started. Again she pressed her finger to his lips, silencing him

“Ah.” She shook her head in disapproval. “Remember, no real names.”

“Okay.” He chuckled, and she smiled back.

It was the first time she’d seen him relax since he got in the door. She had to admit, when he flashed those melting blue eyes at her, and that drop dead sexy grin, she wanted to eat him up. All of him.

“Then call me...Mr...R,” he said, tentatively. “But really, I should give you your surprise, that is what I came here for.”

I hope you'll enjoy reading more about Ainsley's mystery lover....

Available for early download now!

General Release May 30th.



Not tonight, darling, I haven’t washed out the rubber…

(Image ©Depositphotos/everett225)

I’ve come across some interesting information whilst researching for my WIP, A Rancher for Rosie - the second book in The Duggans of Montana series. I won’t give too much away, but I wanted to find out more about contraceptive methods in the old Wild West. I really enjoy the research stage of writing, even when it pulls me out of the story because I need to check a fact or find something out.

Today, we have access to a range of ways to avoid getting pregnant or picking up some nasty sexually transmitted infection, even if no method (other than complete abstinence) is 100% effective. Back in the 1800s, the need for contraception was no different, but I’ll be honest…some of their methods weren’t pretty!
Here are a few examples of things women, especially prostitutes, did to avoid getting pregnant:

Relying on the rhythm method.

Using a womb veil, or cervical cap, which could be made out of the scraped out rind of half a lemon or treated sheep intestines.

Using early forms of condoms which were - ew - made out of sheep intestines or rubber. The latter could be washed out and reused. (Environmentally friendly!)

Inserting vinegar soaked sponges into the woman to create a hostile environment for ‘swimmers’.

Douching with a variety of substances such as pearlash, carbolic acid, quinine or lemon juice. Sometimes they created douches out of arsenic or mercury, combined with herbs like juniper, asafoetida and pennyroyal.

Having intercrural sex, which was simulating intercourse by holding the man’s erection between your thighs.

Indulging in anal sex.

The last resort - abortion - either by ingesting something with abortifacient properties, such as Queen Anne’s Lace seeds, or visiting an abortionist.

This list isn’t comprehensive, so let me know if you’re aware of any others.

Have a great month!

Molly xxx



Sex with a Stranger Anyone?

I'm thrilled to announce that all three books in the A Bit of Strange Trilogy written by myself and Natalie Dae (Harlem Dae) are now available for purchase. 

Strangers who share the touch of heated skin, the gasps of delight joined bodies create and the bliss a moment of ecstasy generates, are bound by an invisible thread that is as strong as it is vulnerable.

But can that thread turn to more, become a force to be reckoned with, the foundation of a beautiful experience and a future where dominance and submission become a part of life?

That’s something Isabelle wants to know, wants to experience, but is her new man up for the job? She has very definite fantasies, a particular flavour of strange that hits her spot. Only time will tell if their next daring interlude will pave the way for so much more than a brief encounter.

(Early download direct from publisher)

So to get you in the mood for this deliciously filthy set of novellas here is smooch from Beauty and Pain

He kissed me—long and hard and oh so bloody toe-curling—then let me go, abruptly, as if I’d given him a shock.

I cocked my head and stared at him, disguising my surprise.

“I need to get away from you, woman,” he said, holding his hands up. “Because if I don’t, I’ll spend all day fucking you on this train. We may well go to Swansea and back and we wouldn’t notice.”

Relieved he hadn’t meant something else entirely, I laughed. “That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

“No, and that’s the problem. I have an important meeting today. I can’t miss it. And believe me, if I could, I would. You’re far too tempting.”

“Delilah to your Samson?”

“Something like that.”

He stared at me for what seemed a long time, and I kept a steady gaze, unwilling to let it waver. I had a feeling he was once again trying to prove I was a sub—to make me look down or at least shift my eyes left or right.

He wouldn’t win this battle.

Thank  you for reading…

Lily x


Studio Orders and Writing a BDSM Historical

A little over a week ago, Studio Orders (Gin & Jazz 5) was released here at Totally Bound. It's the first installment of the series that doesn't feature the main character, Jack Stone. Why? Well, lucky Jack has found his true love and is most happily living ever after with him. But along the way, Jack met some wonderful men that all deserved to find happiness too. Two of them - his studio boss Vincent Franklin, and his driver, Juan - were always there for him when things were at their darkest. In Studio Orders, Juan and Vincent find their way to one another and discover they are the perfect balance to the other.

Vincent practices sadomasochism and is quite dominant. Juan knows nothing of those types of things - he's never even heard of them. But he aches to please his older boss that he's fallen so deeply in love with, and has always derived the greatest pleasure in his life when he could serve someone. Since the Gin & Jazz series is set in the 1920's, there was some additional research I needed to do to incorporate the BDSM elements to the story. The acronym for bondage, discipline and sadomasochism wasn't coined until the late sixties, the actual origin being unclear. When writing Studio Orders I had to be careful not to clutter it with terms or practices that wouldn't have been in use during that time period.

One thing that I incorporated - as I love rope bondage - was kinbaku, or kinbaku-bi (the beauty of tight binding). Most people would be more likely to recognize the Japanese art of binding as shibari. I could go into a long dissertation as to why there are two different terms, and what they denote precisely, but what it comes down to is binding the submissive. But again, the term shibari wasn't used to refer to that practice in the 1920's - anyone referring to the art of Japanese binding would have called it kinbaku. In the following scene, Juan and Vincent are having their first real session as lovers. Having learned of the practice from a Japanese man, Vincent had purchased a proper rope to use on someone someday. Juan is that someone.

Watching as Juan readied himself delighted him in a way that had been lost to him for a long time. He had wrongly assumed that the only thing that brought him pleasure from binding and disciplining a submissive were the acts themselves. Clearly, he had been wrong. Sharing it with someone who meant so much to him gave it true meaning.

Vincent allowed himself to enjoy the view. He wanted to experience the moment and wanted the same for Juan. Rushing through a session didn’t provide the same benefit as allowing it to unfold, embracing each nuance as it occurred. Vincent noted Juan gradually tensing, his teeth clenching as they always did when he was afraid or holding something in. 

In time.

Vincent waited a little longer than he normally would to give Juan a chance to deal with what was happening to him. He tore his gaze from the sight of Juan’s brazenly exposed body. It was still unclear to him whether he would do any better at holding back an orgasm than Juan. He hadn’t brought himself to a climax since before he’d met with Saul. And he’d been taunted by having a naked, willing Juan by his side for the past twenty-four hours.

Vincent was impressed by how freely Juan had opened up to him, and how he kept himself still, waiting for the next command. Opening the door of his mahogany armoire, Vincent then pulled out a very long coil of softened jute fibre rope. It had come from the Orient and had been quite costly. There had never been anyone that he’d wanted to use it on before. Not until that moment.

As he approached the bed with the half inch thick cord, he detected a fleeting glance from Juan. His boy had to be overflowing with curiosity. Sighing, Vincent was once again struck by how honoured he was to be the one to initiate Juan into the joys of submission—to teach him how to free himself through discipline and binding. 

Vincent had spent a lot of time learning various rope tying techniques and patterns over the years. He had a specific position he wanted to tie Juan in for the first time that he penetrated him. As he drew closer to the bed, Vincent noticed that the twitching in Juan’s jaw had increased dramatically in the space of a few minutes. As excited as Vincent was, it was his responsibility to coax Juan safely through his first time being restrained. 

He had the coil of rope slung over his left arm. He leant down over Juan and stroked his forehead, soothing him. 

“Because this is our first session, I need to make sure you are doing okay. In the future, I will be more attuned to your body so we will only discuss what goes on between us when we conclude our play. Talk to me, Juan.”

 Juan swallowed a few times as if he had no spit left in his mouth. He looked in Vincent’s eyes.

“I’m all right, sir. I want this.”

Vincent attempted to keep his expression as blank as possible. It was vital that he be there for Juan and not distract him with whatever Vincent might have going on inside of himself. He didn’t want Juan to lose his focus. 

He caressed Juan’s forehead a little more, then straightened. He looped the twenty three foot long rope around a large solid wood ornament at the top of his headboard. Taking the two free ends, he began the process of carefully binding Juan’s legs and arms to one another, maintaining the posture of him spread wide. Wordlessly, he placed Juan’s limbs the way he wished them to be. He marvelled at Juan’s willingness to be manipulated by him, his lack of resistance.

It had been a while since he had completed the tie he was using on Juan, so it took him close to twenty minutes to achieve the aesthetics he desired. Once he had accomplished it to his satisfaction, he stood back to allow himself the pleasure of viewing Juan helpless and displayed before him. Even the task of working the rope around his lover’s form had been erotic. But the final result was breath-taking.

Juan’s lower legs were bent to their extreme and bound tightly to his thighs. His arms had been encased with additional ropes, trapping them alongside his limbs. The cords were tied in an evenly circled pattern, and it all led to the headboard to keep him anchored. Already Vincent looked forward to the marks the restrictive binds would leave on Juan’s flesh once the ropes were removed. 

Even though Juan had not resisted him in any way as he’d tied him, Vincent noted the cords of his muscles working beneath his skin. Vincent recalled the first time he had been bound. The instinctual response was to fight the imprisonment. The freedom came through embracing it.
Click HERE to get your copy of Studio Orders.

If you would like to find out more about what went into the creation of the Gin & Jazz series, visit me HERE for an exclusive interview from Totally Bound.