Guest Blogger: Harlem Dae

More Brit Babes goodness! This time, it’s Harlem Dae, aka, Lily Harlem and Natalie Dae, that are sharing the goodies. Enjoy…


noviceday5Welcome to The Novice Christmas Chapter Tour. This is a very special tour as over twelve days the first twelve chapters of The Novice (previously titled The Virgin), book #1 in the Sexy as Hell series by Harlem Dae –  will be published, one per day, per blog, for you to get a taste of Victor and Zara’s wild and erotic journey. A huge thank you to Lucy for hosting chapter 5 today!

About Sexy as Hell – Sexy as Hell is an erotic trilogy that will submerge you into the black heart of a world of bondage and discipline, Dominance and submission, sadism and masochism.

Dare to take this twisting journey with Victor and you’ll learn the ropes with him, experience every carnal sensation and fall into a dark and dangerous love that grips like a fist and binds like a collar.

Get to know Zara, his sultry teacher, and you’ll gasp when she doles out her sinful instructions but then delight in the stunning results she not only demands but achieves. It seems Heaven and Hell are not so far apart when she holds the reins.

Victor has his layers peeled back, but when he does the same to try to get to his Vixen’s core, a revelation appears. Because Zara is a woman whose vast sexual experience is both her strength and her weakness; she can inflict pain and pleasure, make lusty demands and instruct, but she needs so much more, she needs…

Yes, the time has come to for her to admit to her needs and confess to the repairing her soul hungers for. A sea of memories, a lifetime of control requires an acknowledgement that will cut through her barriers, and there’s only one man up for the job—her virgin, her student, her newly trained monster, Victor Partridge.

Please note, in order to enjoy Victor and Zara’s adventures, the trilogy must be read in order.


The Novice is the first book, the second The Player and finally The Vixen. Here is the back cover information for The Novice.

London – one meeting, one month of lessons and a landslide of depraved new desires.

My journey to hell started with a decaff coffee. Nothing more than a grey mug full of dull-brown liquid devoid of its most useful ingredient.

One sip, one smile, one touch of her hand and it was soon clear my life wasn’t destined to stay dull. Oh, no, suddenly I had a month of bedroom education planned by a sultry vixen who intended to broaden my horizons beyond my usual peach-pink palette.

She wanted to take me to deep purples and navy blues and the pitch blackness that was pure sin. And on the other side of that blackness was a place that might look like Hell, with debauchery and wantonness, people playing devil’s advocate, luring innocents into the hotter, steamier corners of the world.

Her world.

Oh, yes, she promised each night to take me there and paint me an orange-and-red picture that would come alive, flickering like flames, enticing me, holding me spellbound and eager to learn more. To touch, explore, drown in coming.

And drown I would. I was no match for her tricks and taunts. My only chance of survival was to show her that I was no vanilla virgin. I had a rainbow of mastery up my sleeve, too, and if she just opened her eyes, she might be dazzled enough to stay—stay and take ‘my’ lessons. If she didn’t kill me first, that was, with pleasure.

* * * * *

So what are people saying about the Sexy as Hell Trilogy? I’m pleased to report that it’s all good, no, more than good. This trilogy has been described on Amazon as “far better than the 50 Shades of Grey”, one reader said, “I’ve read many erotic novels and BDSM books but these ones are by far my favourites.” another stated, “I was looking to be titillated yes, but instead was captured by the story of Zara and Victor.” You can read all the glowing reviews on the Harlem Dae website, plus read the FREE Harlem Dae magazine with all the inside gossip about the Sexy as Hell Trilogy and what it was like for two authors writing nearly 300k together and how their characters inspired them to keep on writing.

So finally, with just a last warning that this story is boundary pushing, hot, edgy and dark and not for those of a delicate disposition. It’s BDSM primarily but has a slow burn romance that tips everything on its head as feelings intensify and souls are bared.


Tour Information/Where to find all the chapters –

Harlem Dae Website –

The Novice – Amazon US | Amazon UK

The Player – Amazon US | Amazon UK

The Vixen – Amazon US | Amazon UK


The NoviceChapter Five

After leaving Victor’s office, I sashayed down the hallway and past Mary’s desk, giving her a smile that I hoped would soothe her bruised ego. I hadn’t meant to upset her—Heaven forbid she have palpitations caused by me—but I’d woken with the mission to give that man a reminder of the previous night and wouldn’t have let anyone stop me. She pursed her lips in what I could only take to be a disapproving grimace and looked me up and down, a frown appearing when she stilled her gaze on my short skirt. I mentally shrugged off her dissatisfaction with my appearance and smiled wider. She continued to stare as I sauntered towards the door. I felt her watching me leave the reception area, as though her eyes shot out red-hot lasers that bored into my back, but, once out in the fresh, cool air, I forgot all about her.

As I walked along the street, heading for the coffee shop, my phone bleeped, signalling a text message. I smirked, sure it would be Victor, knowing it would be him. I’d hooked many a man in the past and he’d be no different. Digging into my handbag, I found my phone and read the message.

Coffee shop. Now.

Throwing my head back and letting out a peal of laughter, gaining a few odd or startled looks from passersby—and no, I didn’t give a damn—I entered the coffee shop, heading for the counter with such determination in my stride I imagined I appeared demented. Oh, but I was giddy with victory not insanity, with the knowledge that once again I’d wrapped a bloke around my little finger. Hell, my whole hand. I ordered espresso for us both. The young woman behind the counter eyed me curiously, possibly wondering why I wanted two cups. I paid, thanked her, and made my way to the table we’d occupied yesterday.

And waited for him to come in.

He did, a flurry of cold air entering with him, his face flushed and his tie skew-whiff, loosened slightly at the knot. The top button of his shirt being undone gave him a rakish air, and I had to squeeze my legs together to battle off a wave of arousal. He gazed about—funny how he didn’t immediately look to where we’d met—and I chuckled, wondering whether he hadn’t done so because by now he knew I liked to mix things up. He stood just in front of the slowly closing door, appearing lost and so out of his depth that I had a momentary pang of sorrow for him. It vanished the second he caught sight of me and studied me with an expression that said in no uncertain terms he was here to discuss my behaviour. I hid another smirk and adopted a poker face as he weaved between the tables and stood beside ours with seemingly no intention of sitting down. I cocked my head to look at him, widening my eyes a tad then narrowing them. Licked my lips, the taste of cum still on my tongue.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” he said quietly, with an air of menace I wouldn’t have suspected he could adopt.

Not wanting to let him see he’d surprised me, intrigued me, or cowed me, I said loudly, “What, give you a blowjob?”

He blushed, a furious shade of red that I guessed was embarrassment mixed with anger. He clenched his hands into fists and clamped his lips together, clearly fighting an urge to either slap me, admonish me, or stalk out. Instead he sat opposite, drawing his coffee towards him and taking a hefty sip. Wincing at the burn, he recovered his composure and glared at me, fingers twitching around his cup.

“You’re one hell of an infuriating little bitch, Watson,” he said, the raging red of his cheeks fading a bit but his eyes still glinting with frustration.

I ogled him, the gorgeous bastard, and smiled.

He sighed, a dragged-from-the-bottom-of-his-lungs exhalation, and it seemed all the fight left him with that burst of air. “What the hell have I done agreeing to this crap?” He shook his head, gaze scouring my face, his confusion evident by the furrowing of his brow and his mouth going slack.

“You’ve agreed to some fun,” I said, “and from where I’m sitting you need some. You’re so uptight. Relax. Live a little.”

“I’m supposed to stay relaxed. I was relaxed until you came along. Now I’m at sixes and bloody sevens, and that really isn’t what I need. What my heart needs.”

Good Lord, had he started getting feelings for me? Now that was something I hadn’t expected. This talk of hearts had me squirming in my seat. If he mentioned love I’d stop the bet and walk away, never to look back.

“Supposed to stay relaxed?” I asked, then sipped some of my coffee.

“Yes, but you’ve gone and blown that right out of the water. You’re bad for my health, Zara. Seriously bad.”

It was something anyone would say, a casual comment, but I got the impression he’d meant it literally. Maybe he had blood pressure problems—stood to reason, what with him running his own business—and me waltzing into his life doing unexpected things had possibly wreaked havoc with his pulse rate. I opened my mouth to pry, to coax a confession out of him, then thought better of it. My imagination was running away with me, that was all.

Instead, I said, “So do some breathing exercises when we’re together. That’ll sort you out.” I’d sounded blasé, but if anything it would help him to calm down further. “I don’t mean to be a health hazard, you know. I can’t control your reactions to me, that’s your job. All you have to do is say the word and I’ll float out of your life as easily as I’d floated into it. One word. Go. Or leave. Or even two words. Piss off. Something like that.”

He smiled then, expelling another breath, and I knew I had him back on side. Any anger he’d been harbouring was dissipating, and in another few seconds he’d be wrapped around my finger again. Tightly.

“I have a feeling,” he said, “that you know I can’t tell you to piss off.”

“Of course I know that.”  I smiled again, reaching out to grasp his wrist.

His pulse was a mite fast beneath my fingertips, but as the seconds passed with us staring at one another, it slowed to a steady, acceptable beat. I glanced at his fingers curled around his cup, noting that they didn’t twitch anymore, then returned my attention to his face. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was well and truly smitten with me, something I’d have to watch during our month together. I had no time for serious relationships, just casual, easy-as-hell liaisons that filled the time pleasantly but gave me no grief. Victor would be treated the same as all the others, cast aside, but I hoped we’d part as friends. There was something about him that had already burrowed inside me. The need to know him after, but not, I swear, for anything other than companionship. A coffee shop or wine bar buddy when we were both at a loose end. Someone to give a blowjob to and for me to receive a cunt lick in return. Nice and off-the-cuff, not strings attached. Strings had a habit of becoming knotted, and a jumbled mess wasn’t on the cards for me. It couldn’t be, ever.

“I ought to hate you,” he said, “but damned if I can. You turned up this morning as though you actually had read my thoughts.”

“Ah, I just hoped you’d be thinking about me this morning, that’s all.”

“Of course I bloody was. You knew I would be. Last night ensured that. And here we are…”

“Yes, and here we are.” I stroked the inside of his wrist. “Much as I’d like to sit and natter, I have to get to work.” Leave them wanting more, that was my motto.

“But I’ve only just got here.” He frowned. “And isn’t that place shut in the day?”

Oh yes, I’d need to watch him. He thought too much.

“Look, if I choose to see you outside of our appointed times,” I said, “then that’s okay. I’m the one in charge of this little trip, I’m the one who decides when and where you become more enlightened to the alternative pleasures of life. You don’t choose the times or the locations. That’s part of the deal. I should have made that clear from the start. So, basically, you wait on me and do as I say when I say it, not the other way around.”

“So you expect me to just drop what I’m doing in the office so you can”—he leant forward—“suck my cock whenever you damn well want?”


“I can’t do that. It isn’t possible. I could have clients.”

“Then you’d get rid of them.” I stood, trying hard to hold back laughter.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “This isn’t going to work.” He drank some coffee, stared down at the cup, then pushed it away from him as though it was tainted. “That isn’t decaff, is it? Shit.”

“Beg your pardon for being nice and paying for your coffee. Next time you can get it your bloody self,” I said. “And this is going to work. You’ll make it work. You won’t be able to help yourself.”

I left him sitting there, his mouth wide open, his eyes just as wide. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t afford to. If I had, I might well have felt sorry for him again.

Outside, the bite to the air soon sorted me out, blowing away all thoughts of any empathy I might have given Victor. I settled my mind on my work shift that evening and decided to mix things up a bit. I’d been bored with my usual routine lately, and meeting Victor had given me the boost I needed to try something different. Oh, I’d stick to the basics but fancied adding some little extras. After all, it wouldn’t do to have clients straying because I’d become predictable. There were those, of course, who liked everything the same, but they’d just have to suck it up and accept a new show from me.

I hopped onto a bus, having forgone using my car this morning, and let my mind idle while the double decker took me to my destination. Once again Victor had been positively fuming, yet I’d managed to placate him within a few minutes. I suspected it was the lack of control he couldn’t handle, things being taken out of his hands and put firmly into mine, but if he wanted to be taught new things, he’d have to get used to it. Would want to get used to it, if only to see where I took him, what I showed him. I thought of Lovisa and Halsten then, the sex-crazed Swedes, and it reminded me to check whether they were working this week. It might be fun to push Victor’s boundaries faster than I’d originally intended. Watching him watching them would be a sight and a half.

The bus lurched to a stop. I got off and walked down the alleyway to my work’s front door. I knocked, glanced up at the hidden camera situated above the lintel, and smiled. The door lock snapped, and I pushed inside.

“Hey, Fifi,” I said to our other receptionist, closing the door then going up to the desk.

Fifi gave me a knowing smile; her lips were painted almost black, a stark contrast against her neon red hair. “Heard you brought a virgin in last night, you naughty girl.”

I laughed. “I did, and what a virgin he is.” I sighed dramatically. “Which reminds me, are Lovisa and Halsten on this week?”

Fifi glanced at the rota in front of her. “They are indeed. God, are you bringing your virgin back to watch them? So soon after his first time? I heard you startled the shit out of him with Julie. That is so bad for a newbie. Talk about not easing him in gently.”

“He needs shocking,” I said. “Thinks he knows it all. Well, he did, until he met me.”

“Poor bastard. I don’t envy him. You’re ruthless, anyone ever tell you that?”

I shook my head. “No need. I already know it. I intend to open his eyes. Widely.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve already done that. You’ll give the man a heart attack if you’re not careful. Silver-haired at the temples, so I’m told. You’d better watch his ticker doesn’t give out on you, the amount of shocks you’re giving him.”

I dismissed her words with a wave of my hand. “Oh, behave. He’s fine. And it’s fun, teaching an older dog new tricks. More fun than I thought it would be.”

And it was fun. I just had to make sure I didn’t get used to it.

Or him.

I said a cheery tarra to Fifi and headed for the dressing room. Along with a change of routine, I thought I might switch my get-up a bit. It was all very well wearing a black PVC all-in-one most days, but I fancied showing a bit of skin before I stripped. Just enough to whet their appetites. A promise of what was to be revealed. I shuffled through the outfits on the rail, discarding some immediately, umming and ahhing over others. What would I want Victor to see me in? He’d already copped an eyeful of me naked, but for men, or so I’d been told, a woman dressed in just the right outfit drove them wilder than an instantaneous show of bare skin.

I spied a sleeve poking out from between a wedge of clothing.

Hmmm. Yes, I believed I’d found the perfect item.

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