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Fetish 101: Robot fetishism

While doing some research for story ideas, I came across an awesome chart that maps out all the major fetishes. This chart is fascinating to me because not only does it include all the major fetishes, it shows the relationships between and among them. Ever since then I’ve been doing occasional blog posts on my site about fetishes

The one I’m interested in today is the robot fetish, a fetish which is a subcategory of technosexuality. Robot fetishists usually refer to their fetish by the initials "ASFR" which stems from a now-defunct website.

According to what I found, robot fetishism, considered part of technosexuality, is divided into two usually separate fantasies:

  • Sex with a person dressed in a robot costume, a person acting like a robot, or sex with pre-made sex android robot.
  • Sex with person who has been willingly or unwillingly transformed into a robot or being transformed into a robot oneself and subsequently having sex. The transformation is of key interest in this fantasy.

If you are a Duran, Duran fan, or remember the video to Electric Barbarella, this robot thing is nothing new to you.

If you ask me, the best part of the video is when she freaks out and malfunctions. According to one interview I read, it’s this possibility for malfunctioning that is part of the draw. When she’s broken you get out your tool kit and fix her.

Wanting to see and hear an actual human talk about sex with robots, I hunted up a video. I’d be interested to hear what others have to say about this guy’s thoughts on why he wants a sex android.

Need more?

"Let's mech love", by Lisa Scott, Metro daily paper, 7February 2007.

If you are geeky like me, I suggest this Wikipedia article on typical human responses to human-like robots.

Interested in what other fetishes I've been writing about? Check out my site:


Pinterest by Lily Harlem

Okay, I'll admit it, I have a new obsession, which is not good as I have a very obsessive nature. This new obsession has taken me away from writing for several days as I've trawled the web for hotness, prettiness, wackiness and general sexyness. What is it?...Pinterest.

I expect many of you have come across Pinterest already. But for those of you who haven't check it out here.

Basically it's a live time line of pictures/images people have pinned to their online boards. You can like them, comment on them, or repin them to your own boards.

Making your own boards is enormous fun, and completely addictive, as I have discovered to my peril, and its also very time consuming. I have found it amazing how focused I have become on getting just the right picture. The usually patient Mr H is starting to tut and mutter - whoops! Best make it up to him soon :-)

Here is my page of boards. It is probably easier to just show you than try and explain. (By clicking on one picture on each board you get to see the full content.)

As you can see I have pinned hot studly heroes who give me inspiration for my writing and the lovely heroines who get to bed these men. Pictures of locations that I would happily be transported to and all of my book covers.

I adore both hands and male armpits (that is another blog post!) and have sourced some great images. I can't resist handsome actors so they've got a board too - though you will notice model David Gandy (sigh) gets a board all to himself. Also I had to have hearts, I'm ultimately a romance writer, but I also wanted something to reflect the erotic nature of my books, which is why I have the Dark board. Though this has to be treated with care as nudity is not allowed on Pinterest, though breasts and the flash of a butt cheek seem to scrape through. However, this makes something like my Dark board all the more fun. The images have to be suggestive and provocative to get that delicious hint of eroticism. The same goes for my kissing and bliss boards, which are just scrummy!

I just had to start the Mmm, Interesting pinboard. Scouring the net for images meant I was stumbling across all kind of things I had to have! You can see under each picture, when you click to view the full board, how many times another Pinterest user has liked, or repined one of your pictures. Some of the images on this board have been very popular.

My latest release at Total-E-Bound is That Filthy Book and as you can see I have a whole board dedicated to this novel. Finding pictures that matched certain scenes and quotes was great fun and I think the overall board gives a good sense of this story.

Want to make your own pinboard page? Yay, of course you do!

You have to request an invite to join Pinterest which takes about 24hours and then you can start pinning (unless you have a Facebook friend already pinning then they can invite you and you'll start instantly). While you are waiting have a look at other boards. Think of the possibilities for planning weddings and parties, showing off holiday snaps, or hinting at gifts when birthdays come around, and of course just indulging in ogling sexy men and steamy scenes. 

Have fun and link up with me so we can follow!!


Hide and Seek

Just like every other writer, I sometimes get the question where I get my ideas from, and then there’s the unavoidable if my characters happen to be based on myself or on people I know.

My first instinct is to say that no, it’s not about me. And that’s not even a lie or a subconscious blindness to reality. Stories are just there, or perhaps I should say characters are there and things happen to them. If enough things happen that are actually interesting a story is born. Pure magic.

But, that magic happens in my head. Out of all the information that’s stored in my brain, the things I’ve seen and heard and read, most of it forgotten enough to feel like I never knew about it in the first place, some emerge in the form of a sentence, a thought…the start of a story.

I’ve never felt the need to write directly about myself, but is it really a coincidence that I tend to create characters who are introverts with a strong need to try and understand their every emotion with the help of rational thoughts? Yes, even if they have sex, or especially when they have sex. Or would I have written in quite the same way if I had been straight instead of a lesbian with a thirty year marriage (even though I can only officially call it that for the last ten years, and yes, what influence has that fact on my writing?) Didn’t have children, or daughters instead of sons? Had lived at least partly closeted instead of fully out? Hadn’t come from a working class background? Had met different people in the course of my life? Had a different type of body?

No, my work is never directly autobiographical, but somewhere, hidden between the words, I’m there. And something tells me we writers are always there, playing hide and seek in our stories.




I wish I could say anticipation was always delicious, a shivery, exciting feeling that leaves me breathless. (Oh, but that’s something else entirely! I’ll write the story for you and call it fiction.)

Sometimes, anticipation leaves me wishing away the days!

Book release days kind of leave me with a mixture of emotions, and I have a book release day (BRD) coming up in a couple of weeks.

There are a lot of things leading up to BRD.

First thing is edits. I do my best to send in a clean manuscript, but I know I’ve invariably made errors. Each editor brings his or her unique perspective to the process. Will I agree with all the recommended changes? Generally I do, because I appreciate the feedback of someone who cares deeply about producing a good book, but has less invested emotionally and has a new perspective.

Then comes the book cover… Does it capture what I want it to? (Of course, I have to send in really good cover request forms, which is surprisingly difficult…again, that emotional attachment.) So when the e-mail arrives with the cover as an attachment, I sometimes click to open immediately. And sometimes I wait a bit. The cover is never what I expect. Often it’s far superior. But it’s always interesting to see how the artist has interpreted what I’ve provided.

Then actual BRD.

After months of work, it’s a giddy time.

Will people like the story? Will I strike a chord? Will I have successfully taken my reader away from daily trials and challenges and provided a respite? Even better, have I hit a fantasy button? Have I done my job so that I emotionally affect a reader?

To me, that’s what it’s all about, YOUR experience as a reader?

As I craft a story, I always keep the reader in mind. We are all complex human beings. (See my comments above about anticipation being a mixed bag!) And I try to create characters who are reflection of reality.

My characters are not based on real people, but rather they are a composite of people I know and experiences I’ve had.

I try to create an experience for the reader. My books are less about me and more about the person I’m connecting with. In that regard, writing is very intimate. I’m hoping for a connection. I hope to create a few laughs, maybe some anxious moments, some sensual tension, something that inspires, maybe some anticipation….

Ultimately it’s up to the reader to let me know how I did. And that is the biggest anticipation of all.


Whips and chains and shackles, oh my!

I'm in the mood for something a little rough.

When Fifty Shades of Grey made a splash on all sides of the pond, women everywhere were suddenly getting a taste of the thrills that could be had if their lover was willing to dominate them in the bedroom. But of course, those of us who were well-versed in erotica just had to chuckle and shake our heads. You're finally figuring this out, ladies?

I found this amazing photograph here.

But there is a first time for everything, and there is always a first time for being introduced to the wonderful world of BDSM. Some of my first experiences were very soft-core, such as being tied to the headboard with scarves. There was the light spanking, the one that happened on the spur of the moment and didn't really turn me on, but it was fun to try something new. Then there was the moment a lover ordered me around, told me to get down on my knees and suck his cock, and held my hair as though I wouldn't be allowed to go anywhere until I had finished the deed to his satisfaction.

Those were first efforts at BDSM, and they did the job -- they made me want more, made me want something hard-core, made me long for serious bondage, a good spanking and of course, being told to cater to his wishes, no matter what those wishes might be.

After experimenting with being the submissive over the years, it was time to experiment with the other side of the coin -- being the dominant one in the bedroom. And oh my goodness, that's when my true colors came out! There's something so sweetly wicked about giving my partner a few sexy assignments, tying him to the bed, breaking out the toys and watching him go through that sweet struggle of trying to please while doing everything he can not to come. It's a delight!

What's your BDSM story? Are you a dominant or submissive? Are you just discovering the world of BDSM, or have you never indulged before? Does it make you nervous, or does it turn you on? Tell us about your naughty story!



To Truly See...

The saying goes, "eyes are the window into the soul," and I believe this to be true in many ways. Something happens when you take a moment and really look at a person as they are talking. I think it's amazing how our eyes can reveal so much even when we haven't uttered a word!

Eyes are the first facial feature to draw me to another. I think they can be the first indication of the kind of person you are dealing with.

Sometimes our eyes can betray us...give away what we are truly feeling when we don't want to be exposed. It often feels safer and is easier to force those bright-eyed expressions.

Looking into someone's eyes...letting them truly see what you feel without the shutter in place can be scary. You can't do it with everyone and there's some vulnerability involved often times even with the ones we hold dear to our hearts.

But, oh the gift of having someone see into our soul and truly understand...magic!

Nichelle Gregory 
Simply sexy stories...


Learning...from a romance novel?

To the person who does not read our genre, if asked the question, "what can be learned from reading romance," responses may be crude (how to have sex), obnoxious (how to steal someone's girl/guy), or plain ignorant (there's nothing to learn from those books). 

Being a life-long reader of romance, I beg to differ. I started reading romance in the early 1980's, when historicals were big. Do you know, from my love of these tales, I minored in history in college? Reading about people living and loving through different periods in history brought this oft-moaned subject to life. Dates and documents were there in the stories, and I did absorb them, but it was through the interactions and events of the characters involved that had me craving more information.

As fiction writers, we write story lines that are not based on real life, but our stories usually have points of fact in order to bring our stories to life. We create places and events that readers will identify. We work our stories so that the reader will be able to lose themselves in our tales. If they come out the other side in love with our hero/heroine and understanding the difference between a backhoe and a dozer, more power to them. Romance writers are good that way -- hiding the facts in plain sight, so to speak. To me, that's the best kind of learning.

From reading romance-themed stories, I've learned not only about historical places and events, I've also learned a little about cars, I've found household cleaning tips, I've even picked up a few recipes that are to-die-for delicious. No car manuals were involved. I didn't go out and buy all the household books on the store shelves, and I don't think there's a recipe book out there to match some of the goodies I've found in romance books.

Beyond the tid-bits of fact that pepper our stories, we can also learn a little about life. We write about relationships that are deep, intimate, trustworthy and sustainable. Would that real life followed this pattern. Unfortunately, it does not, but from these stories we can learn the importance honesty, communication and standing up for ourselves/our beliefs.

Romance books contain a wealth of information. Come to think of it, perhaps this is why our genre is despised so much (even as it outsells others) -- it's pure jealousy. I mean, after all, we have it all, and no other genre can compare.

What about you? What bits of information have you picked up, just from reading a romance? I'd love to know. 



'Cause Release Feels So Good

With new releases coming out each week, Monday is always an exciting time at Total-E-Bound. This Monday is especially fabulous for me since I'm among the lucky TEB authors who have a new story out this particular week!

Click here for an excerpt and to purchase Sounding the Depths!

Also: please join me today on my blog for a Manic Minute Monday during this "Merry Month of May I Suck Your __!" for one sexy sentence from Sounding the Depths -- and a good idea of precisely which piece of commercial hardware Ethan Gray prefers to use to enhance his hardware ;)

Happy Monday, all -- and I hope your week starts out as well as mine has!



Available From Total-E-Bound: Sounding the Depths
Available Now From Total-E-Bound: Bending Tyme


Sexy Excerpt!

Here is a sexy excerpt from Realm of Passion which you can get now at Total-E-Bound!

Callie heard the front door shut, and a few moments later there was a soft knock at her door. Her heartbeat sped up with hope that it was Malia, and fear that it wasn’t. She really didn’t want to talk to Daniele or Dante, but if Malia had sought her out…
“Yeah?” she called out quietly. The door opened and Malia stepped inside.
Malia didn’t say anything, just made her way to Callie. Malia didn’t stop until her knees hit the bed. She reached out a hand and stroked Callie’s cheek. Callie shivered at the contact and her breath caught in a gasp. Malia’s touch was electrifying, and she felt the simple contact throughout her entire body. She forgot all about the hurt and confusion of earlier, wanted nothing more than to finish what they had started on the kitchen table.
Callie got on her knees and crawled to the edge of the bed. She reached out and grasped Malia’s hips, thumbs running along the bare skin above her waistband. Malia stood there, staring down at her with a guarded expression. Callie lifted Malia’s shirt to reveal her belly button, then leant forward and pressed a gentle kiss to it. Malia sighed above her and slid her hands into Callie’s hair encouragingly. Callie continued to lay gentle kisses across Malia’s belly as she worked quickly to unbutton her pants.
Callie pushed Malia’s pants down and followed their path with her lips, kissing down to the thin lace of her panties. As Callie slipped her tongue under the material, Malia’s hands fisted in her hair. Callie pulled Malia’s panties down then, revealing the most delicious patch of cotton-candy pink curls. Callie smiled at the delightful sight. She had hoped it would be the same as the hair on her head. Before she could stop herself she reached out to pet the soft, fine hair.
Callie looked up at Malia with a grin on her face. “Beautiful,” she whispered.
Malia smiled back and cupped Callie’s face. “You are a delightful surprise, Callie.”
Callie giggled at the odd compliment, then leant forward and ran her tongue from Malia’s belly button through her pink curls and over her already wet lips. Callie groaned at the first taste—so sweet. Callie knew she would forever crave this woman. Everything about her appealed to Callie, even her hard-ass attitude. Damn it, if she wasn’t just like every other woman out there chasing the bad boy…or in her case, the bad girl.

Check me out at


Four Strong Women: Why? Why? Why?

Four Strong Women: Why? Why? Why?

Welcome to the world of home schooling, Marci! Believe me, the "Why" never stops. The minute you answer that first question, they get to sense that here is a font of information and discovery, right out of mom and dad's mouth. My daughter is 12. The "Why's" I get from her pretty much require libraries and internet access at this point. Get good at defining Google searches, hon.This will be your most useful skill, I promise you.

Power of Love

Love is such a powerful thing. It moves people in so many ways. As a writer of romance I love exploring the various ways that love unfolds. All the paths it takes are fun to explore.

This weekend I watched movies based on love. Each was so different and to see the ways love came and was shown made me think. The great thing was the movies followed families. The love, tribulations and all the things in between. From the beginning of time people have been falling in love. Love can make you crazy, giddy and bring you such hope and joy.

Love has many types - the love between friends and family. The love between lovers. Each has the core of opening yourself to another person and becoming a unit. With friends it is building a close knit relationship that stands through good and bad. The same with family. With family we share and love.

The love between lovers is what I explore in my books. From the start of the initial attraction, the first steps to getting to know each other, the dating and then finally the all encompassing feelings and knowing you belong together. There are of course the ups and downs and the times when you fall in and out of love. But when you find that right someone it is magical, exhilarating and soul moving. Yeah I am a romantic at heart. All the steps to the power of love fascinates me.

Taige Crenshaw
…increasing the sizzle factor
Chat Group:
Free Reads Site:

Wilde Rapture - When a woman ducks into an alcove at a wedding she meets the man who is intriguing and will tempt her.

Buy here at Total-E-Bound.


All Together Now Menage Anthology With Giveaway!

Hi everyone! I am back this month and super excited to be in the midst of promoting the All Together Now menage anthology that was recently released. I'm always excited when new Total-E-Bound releases come out, but the 'super' part is because this anthology contains my first story with TEB entitled, "The Perfect Third". There are a total of six - yes count them - six menage-themed stories in this collection in varying settings, including contemporary, historical, western and even steampunk! To help titillate you further, I am including a steamy excerpt from "The Perfect Third", and am also offering a digital copy of this fantastic new anthology to one lucky winner! Just leave a comment (with contact info please!) on your favorite erotic romance genre, and you may have the chance to win! I'll be picking a winner by next Monday, so you'll have this week to enter. If you just can't wait to read it though, then pick up your very own copy today!

Blurb from "The Perfect Third":

Sexy young Alexa is single in New York. But she doesn’t want to date any more of the stuffy men she meets through her job at the law firm—she needs some excitement. When she meets hunky Lorne, a film score composer, at a premiere after-party, she can’t believe her luck when he asks her out.

After an incredibly hot night of sex, when it seems that this is just the relationship she’s been waiting for, things inexplicably cool down. Does his best friend and roommate, the dangerously handsome Antony, have anything to do with it? One night the truth of Lorne and Antony’s relationship is revealed to Alexa, and she has a difficult choice to make. Is she willing to just let go and become their perfect third?


Abruptly, Lorne pulled back and stood up. He looked down at her as she leant back against the arm of the sofa, and began to unbutton the white tuxedo shirt he was wearing, throwing the bow tie to the ground. His chest exposed, Alexa feasted her eyes on just how well built he was, with just a light smattering of golden hair. He undid his belt and slacks, which were also then cast aside. He was left standing in black briefs that strained under the hardness of his generous cock.

“Would you like to do the final honours?” he said to her, a mischievous tone to his voice.

Alexa wanted to rip the fabric from his body to get at what was being held prisoner beneath. She leant forward so that her face was even with his crotch. Feeling lightheaded from the wine, and maybe a little dangerous, she grabbed the elastic waistband with her teeth and began tugging it downward. He was so hard, it was difficult to get the underwear to cooperate, so she gave it an extra tug with both her hands.

Finally his large prize was free, and she immediately caught it with her lips, licking and tonguing the shaft, teasing the tip as she eased it in and out of her mouth. Lorne placed both hands on her head, moaning, and began to thrust his cock deep into her, pushing at the back of her throat as she opened up to take as much of him as she could.

Lorne held her head fast in his hands, so Alexa was free to begin sliding out of her silk dress. As it fell to her waist, she lifted up slightly to get it the rest of the way off. She sat perched on the edge of his white couch in a red satin lace bra and thong panties. She saw Lorne looking down at her and hoped that the sight of his thick prick ramming into her face and her full C-cup breasts bouncing in the red push-up bra was bringing him true delight.

She was briefly unsure of herself as he pulled his dick out of her mouth, but he reassured her. “You are way too sexy in this outfit, with a sweet, sumptuous mouth. I’m afraid I won’t be able to contain myself.”

He knelt down in front of her and began to kiss her again, and she could feel that her mouth was sloppy and her lips were swollen from the recent assault of his shaft. Her cheeks were flushed, and he watched as her chest rose alluringly with fast breath. He began to explore her again, and he made it clear it was time for the rest of her clothing to come off. He undid her bra, and she helped move things along by sliding her panties off.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm,” he said, locking with her eyes again. “I plan to reward it.”


You Read What?!?!

I have blue hair. Real big deal, right? To some people it is. To others it makes no difference. For those that it irritates, well, they seem to find a lot more things that really drive them crazy about me. But this story pertains to my hair.

I was sitting and waiting for my totlet to get out of school. I happened to be reading a book. Crazy, right? I didn't have the top on the Jeep, so the warm sunshine shone on my hair. Did I mention I have a tire cover that says "Dirty Jeep Girl"? Yeah, I do.

So I'm reading and minding my own business when another parent stops to talk to me. Fine. I love to talk. Ask anyone. This person, though, took it upon herself to ask the tough questions. Here's our conversation:

"Picking up the child?"


"You're reading."

I'm glad you noticed.

"I just read this book that I think would be right up your alley."

Oh? (I couldn't wait to hear the title. Why? Because I had some crazy notion that the person might name a book that wasn't the one making headlines.)

She hands me the book making the headlines. "This was the best read. I had no idea people did this stuff. You should write like this."

(Now she knew I wrote books. A dear friend of mine shouted it to the entire foyer one time, so yeah, they know.) Have you researched what I write?

"Yeah. I saw you on Amazon. But this book... It's naughty. People probably think I'm like you because I read it."

Like me? Do explain.

"Oh you know." She waved her hands. "The hair. No one in their right minds wears BLUE hair. Only punks. And you never wear anything that doesn't have a car on it. What I read about your work on Amazon, I bet this book would describe you. You look like you'd love it."

It was a good thing I'd been sitting down or I'd have fallen over. I don't have anything against that book. Write what you want and what makes you happy. More power to you. What irked me was the generalization. She didn't know me. Not really. Blue hair, concert t-shirts and the penchant for wearing my favorite Adidas doesn't signify anything other than maybe I have an original sense of style. I didn't appreciate her assuming she knew me. Is there anything wrong with writing BDSM? Nope. Practicing it? As long as it's safe, more power to you. Do I have my kinks? Yep. I'd probably tell you if you asked.

So I looked at her for a long time. I had to think through what I wanted to say. I suffer from a wicked case of open foot insert mouth syndrome. I placed the book I happened to be reading (Treble if you want to know, I wanted to read the other books in the anthology and finally had time to read it.) on the console. I smiled. "Bless your heart for suggesting it. I should put it on my to be read list. I've got a couple of good BDSM books on my ereader. Want me to suggest a couple? They aren't really like the one you read. Some are more hardcore, but you might like them. I've got a couple books I've written that might work, too."

She gasped, turned bright red and waved her finger. I knew it. I knew the first time I saw you, you were one of those kink perverts." She shook her head like she'd won a battle and walked away.

Kink pervert? i wouldn't call anyone a kink pervert, unless they did something really bad (you know what I mean - the stuff involving kids or bodily fluids... shudder). Why? To each their own. But I ask you, what did that make her? A closet kink pervert? There isn't anything wrong with suggesting a book to a friend. I don't know that I would've made my delivery quite the same way. Still, there's something dangerous about assuming that because of the way a person looks, or the books they read, that they are a specific way. If you peek at my ereader, you'd think I was gay with a fascination with BDSM. I'm happily married with a small person.

What's the point in all this? You never really know what the person next to you is reading and that's a good thing. I want people to read all kinds of books, look however they want to, and to do whatever it is that's safe and makes them happy. If that means wearing a Queen shirt, sporting blue hair and writing kink, then go for it. The friend doesn't talk to me now. She's 'slightly embarrassed' she says and avoids me. Was it the hair? I doubt it. I think it was the honesty. I proved her point that I might be one of 'those people'. Am I? Probably. But yanno, being one of those people is darned fun.

Want to read a little about my latest work? Here you go!

When You're With Me
Contemp, M/F, light bdsm, spanking
Available here!

A topless dancer plus a cynical cop doesn’t equal a lifetime love...or does it?

There’s more to Jude Nelson than just a sequined thong. She has big dreams of becoming an artist. There’s one tiny wrinkle in her plan-she’ll never forget the bloody image of her friend’s battered body in the dumpster.

Who can a nude dancer turn to for help? Certainly not a hardened undercover cop...

Detective Drew Alwyn is on the case to find out who murdered his good friend and fellow officer. But the moment he sees Jude, he can’t look away. He has to decide which is more important-his dedication to his job or the girl who holds his bruised and battered heart.

Will these two opposites come together to solve the case or will their desire consume them?

Reader Advisory: This story contains scenes of bondage, mentions of drug use by secondary characters, silk, sequins and art supplies used in foreplay, voyeurism and a little spanking for good measure.

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!

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On Romance Novel Center:


Expect the Unexpected

Hi all,

Right, I'm here,. I think. Just... Where should I start?
Admittedly, I'm a bit off centre these days as was to be expected. The funny thing is that while I was expecting to be a bouncing bundle of nerves around this time of month because of the upcoming release of my very first book ever, reality looks quite a bit different. I'm so busy I barely even get to think about it anymore.

That, dear readers, is due to the fact that my household and above all, the many, many electronic appliances and gadgets I call my own seem to have ganged up on me.

It all began with me waking up in a major wet patch about four weeks ago. Now, while that may not be desirable but is, in itself, not usually a reason for concern, the fact that the cause of this particular wet patch was my water bed leaking did concern me more than just a little. So, after waking - and getting - up at three in the morning with a pair of soaked pyjama bottoms clinging to my private parts, we spent the day shopping for a new bed, only to be told that it will take at least 6 weeks to be delivered... (Fortunately I was saved from camping in the garden by my dear brother who owns a spare mattress  - Thanks for that, hun!)

Next up was that special morning when my sleepy self staggered into the kitchen at around five-thirty in the morning, as always in urgent need of coffee, only to find the fridge door with a cracked top hinge. G-R-R-R-E-A-T! I did get my coffee after all, and we installed a new fridge just two days ago. That of course involved taking apart a frighteningly large section of the kitchen, but who cares... I meant to do a bit of spring cleaning anyway.

Then there's the TV, of course, which has already been fixed once and is now faulty and up for repair again. In between fixing, changing and shopping for things, my beloved has started seeing his dentist a lot - three times in two weeks - due to a broken tooth and, oh, by the way, did I mention that the car needs to be fixed and one step of the front staircase is crumbling down? The joys of owning a house...

Tonight, finally, a writer's nightmare has caught up with me when, believe it or not, my laptop has passed away after kindly announcing its upcoming end with an error code printed in eye-friendly white on black and an ominous whirring sound. It worked fine after that but did a similar thing once before, so off I went to arrange for it to be returned (it's still in warranty, lucky me!), thinking better safe than sorry, but when I tried to boot it once more after that -voilĂ !- I was greeted with the same error code and whirring sound but no chance at getting it to work again. It's now sitting in its box waiting to be taken to the post office tomorrow morning.

Thankfully I still have my trusty old dinosaur which I'm using to write this, but I don't even dare think of what's going to break down next. Currently my only consolation is that there isn't much left, really, which means that I might still stand a chance to celebrate the release of my first ever book.

Ah, the book. Right. What was the title again?  Let me think... Sub-Mission. Yes. That was the thing I was originally going to tell you about, but I'm thinking I should just let it speak for itself, so here's the blurb:

How far would you go to save the one you love?
Pierce Hollister is a down-to-earth businessman. Most of the time. His romantic side has him secretly dreaming of Mr Right, a family and happy ever after.
Noah Conway is a single father who doesn't believe in happy families anymore. When his daughter's life is at stake, he would sell his soul to save her but as a sadistic Dom takes an interest in him, he sells his body instead.
A shared session at a BDSM club leaves Pierce intrigued and soon he finds himself willing to do anything in his power to heal the wounds that life has left on Noah's soul. When he realises that the very thing Noah dreads the most might just be what he needs, Pierce sets out on a mission – but maybe it's just not in his power to save Noah.
Will Noah be able to battle the demons that haunt him and find the happy ever after Pierce has dreamed up for them?
You can find it here:

By the way - if you think this story is just a ruse to lure you into buying my book: It's not, honestly. I wish it were, but of course I'm happy for you to buy it anyway! After all, I need to buy a new laptop, and this time I'm going for something decent and reliable (or at least I hope so).

All the best,


Sage Marlowe

Taking romance to the edge...


That Was The Part You Had Trouble With?

I have a great fascination with the paranormal. I’m well aware that this makes people look at me strangely, but hey, I’m used to that. At least, when I went on a paranormal investigation last year, I had the excuse that I was writing a paranormal short and needed to do some literary research. It made a night of random bumps and bangs sound much more exciting.

Fortunately the story was more entertaining than the reality, since “I Heard Your Voice” was accepted, which means the team from Tintagel Paranormal will get to raise their spirits for more eyes than just my own.

Tamar Steele is an interesting heroine. She’s a “sensitive” for the team, who run paranormal events for paying guests – and she also has the less attractive role of girlfriend to Reed James, their celebrity medium, who believes sex on haunted ground enhances his mediumship abilities. Left alone on a vigil, she accidentally discovers that her singing causes paranormal activity, raising a ghost who refuses to leave – and turns her world upside down.

So there’s a lot there which a person who doesn’t believe in ghosts might find hard to believe. My husband is one such person. I ran the story past him, including character descriptions, and asked him if he thought he could suspend his disbelief.

His response?

“You said her boobs were HOW big? Do you know how big G-cups ARE?”

Why yes, darling, I do. I watched those videos over your shoulder, remember? And out of the entire story, that was the sticking point for you? Really?

So just to warn everyone out there. This is a story about matchmaking ghosts, paranormal singing, and a celebrity medium who has spirit-enhancing sex. But it also involves a girl with large breasts. I hope that’s not a problem.


Feel like playing with Prudence?

Monday's are for nipple clamps ;)

The gold nipple clamps matched her collar and the rose detailing on their sides was exquisite. There was even room for a fine chain that could attach them to the central loop on the chain around her neck, but Ned had left it off when he had dressed her. “Any more ornamentation,” he’d said, “would be too much.”

Pru’s breasts spilled bare and brazen from over the top of the corset that cinched her and reminded her with every laboured breath how naughty she was. Her nipples ached underneath the bite of tiny teeth. If Harry were to twist the clamps, the sensations would be sharp and fierce before they would melt into that perfect, constant pleasure-pain. Would he think to do that? she wondered as Harry gave her a hot stare that rattled all the way through her body.

Carefully, almost reverently, he brushed his hand across the swell of her breasts. Her areoles ached for his attention, but he shied away from the swollen centres, concentrating instead on shaping her curves with his fingers.

“Harry,” Ned drawled. “She is not a nice girl. You’re meant to hurt her.”

There was warning in the way he said it, a flavour so familiar it had her muscles tensing in anticipation. Harry heard it too, his answer coming in the way he finally squeezed her breasts, forcing her nipples into even tighter peaks beneath the clamps.

“What does this feel like?” Harry rasped.

“Hurts.” The lingering slide of sound she made gave the lie to it, however. Mere words couldn’t convey how, for her, pain was never a simple sensation.

Harry groaned, his fingers splaying possessively over her skin.

Instinct had her fumbling for the belt of his robe but that same instinct stilled her hands again. “May I?” 

She kept her eyes trained on Harry’s cock, sleek and hard and hot already. She trembled from the effort of not touching him. Ned’s reply was long enough in coming that she felt hysterical panic well within her. Please—please—

“Touch him,” Ned ordered.


The Many Joys of Editing

When it comes to editing, the lines often - unfortunately - merge with rewriting. I've been deep into editing a new novel for the last...God, I think I'm coming up on a month now. Ugh. I want to work on something new! But stopping in the middle of editing is like stopping in the middle of writing a sex scene - Don't Do It! (That's my motto, anyway.) Stop, and the momentum disappears with a forlorn little fizzle. Stop, and I know very well that the project will sit for ages while I distract myself from it and find ever more creative avoidance methods. It's amazing, the many excuses I can come up with to put off finishing when I really work at it!

Most of the time, editing isn't all that horrible, really. I'm kind of an organization freak, and that's what it is. Organizing words and scenes, trying to make the whole book clean and neat. Most of the time. Sometimes, though, editing becomes a broiling, seething portal into hell. Okay, that was a bit dramatic, but you get the idea. It's when those fine lines between editing and rewriting start to blur. When I realize there are obnoxious holes in my plot sequence, or my sex scene doesn't make sense where I put it. Or, in this case, where one character has completely overtaken the book. Fine, it's his book, but there is a second person in this relationship!

My book The Lonely Heart was like that to finish (coming out this fall with TEB, so I did finally get it done!). I spent darn near six months with the blasted thing after putting "The End" on it. Of course, some of that was my fault. I kept poking at it, kept editing, and did my very best to avoid rewriting on any kind of larger scale. It was when I finally gave it and began pulling the scenes apart that progress finally began to show. So, this time, I'm not letting myself avoid the rewriting. It's still a slow process; deleting is hard. I imagine I'm like most writers in that aspect, though. I don't like to let go. I have a bunch of files on my computer full of bits and pieces, portions of scenes that didn't really work. "But I can't delete that! I might find a use for it!" Sure, I'll find some wonderful place to stick those two sentences that aren't that fabulous after all. I'm a hoarder, only with my words. Short and pithy? Not me. My books always end up longer after editing than before.

One of these days, I'll learn that magic recipe, the perfect synthesis between editing and rewriting. Until then, I'll just keep poking at my words and hoping that out of the tangled mess will come a nice, neat tale. It's worked so far. And now, it's back to work. I think I need to start at the beginning again...

K.M. Mahoney
Come Wander With Me