Tag Archives: guest blog

Wednesday on Thursday: Coffee, Words and Sex by Kay Jaybee (@kay_jaybee)

I have never made a secret of my love of coffee. I can’t function without a generous cup of Americano- black and hot- first thing in the morning. There is certainly no way I could get my words down without its magic imagination enhancing qualities. Caffeine is my addiction of choice…

…apart from words. You could easily make a case for claiming that I am equally addicted to words and writing. I am fascinated by words. How they can about, the way we use them, and the power they have. They are, without doubt, the most powerful weapons on earth. Used thoughtlessly, they can cause great hurt and harm; break hearts, minds and start wars. Used well, and the results can be beyond rewarding.

The inspiration behind my new novella, Wednesday on Thursday, came from my belief in the power of words. What would happen, I wondered, if someone became obsessed with how individuals react to certain words when used in certain situations? Certain erotic situations.

I extended this thought a little by asking myself what might happen if that fascination with behaviour reactions to words was observed through a serious of experiments conducted via crossword puzzles and quizzes.

At this point you may be worrying about how much thinking I do- or you may want to read the blurb.

 

Wednesday on ThursdayBlurb

There are rumours that the coffee guy has “a thing” about words.

Shrugging off her friend’s concern about the way the man in the cafe stares at her every lunch hour, Wednesday can’t see how his love of words could possibly be hazardous.

The fact is, Wednesday rather enjoys being the centre of an attractive man’s undivided attention. His dark blue eyes alone have provided her with many delicious erotic fantasies, a welcome distraction from the pressures of the real world and a dull job.

It’s totally harmless…

…until there’s an accident with a cup of coffee.

After soaking Wednesday with a hot latte, the coffee guy’s attention suddenly becomes far more enticing—and dangerous.

Drawn into a bizarre world of human behavioural research, where crosswords are used to initiate sexual experiments, Wednesday finds herself driven, not by a desire to further scientific research, but by the need to be rewarded for her hard work by the coffee guy’s captivating research assistant.

A stunning redhead by the name of Thursday…

 

This novella, as the blurb reveals, is a work that combines everything I love. Coffee, cafes (I write all my stories in my local cafe) and words- not to mention sex. Quite partial to that as well – and if pushed, I rather like redheads…

Here is a little taster from Wednesday on Thursday to whet the appetite.

Chapter One

His hands moved so fast that Wednesday didn’t register what was happening until her top was by her ankles. A large palm came to her neck. She was pinned to the spot, and her bra was tugged down until it lodged beneath her breasts. Then a pair of masculine lips greeted her right nipple.

A delicious wave of climactic shock spun her head with images of what the man with the dark blue eyes might do once he tired of feasting on her chest. Of what it would be like to experience his agile tongue lapping at her pussy, over her butt, around her…

‘Wednesday!’

Snapping out of her recurring fantasy, Wednesday Taylor blushed. ‘Sorry, Carol. I was thinking.’

‘Again?’ Carol smiled. ‘Come on, who is it that’s captured your imagination and lured it away from the paradise of data input? Every time I look at you you’re miles away.’

‘No one. I was planning a holiday.’

‘If you expect me to believe that, then you must think me blind as well as stupid.’ Perching on the edge of Wednesday’s desk, Carol shoved a pile of papers to one side. ‘It’s that guy from the café, isn’t it?’

‘Which guy?’ Wednesday deliberately kept her eyes on her screen.

‘Come off it, Nez. The one who can’t take his eyes off you. Until you take a quick look at him, that is. Then he studies his espresso cup with an expression that suggests he’s trying to work out its molecular structure.’

‘The man to whom you are referring sits in a corner.’ Wednesday flapped away the suggestion with a wave of her hand. ‘He is automatically observing everyone because his seat oversees the entire cafe. I really was contemplating the advantages of Portugal over Spain.’

Carol rolled her eyes and sighed. ‘If you say so, but be careful.’

‘Use a high factor sun screen on the beach, you mean?’

Getting to her feet, Carol seemed to give up on her pursuit of gossip. ‘Seriously, there are rumours about that bloke. He makes me uneasy.’

Winking playfully, Wednesday said, ‘Rumours? Do tell.’

‘I’m serious! Apparently he has this “thing” for words.’

Putting inverted commas around the word “thing” with her hands as she replied, Wednesday laughed. ‘A “thing” for words. Now that is scary. If you’d said he had a “thing” for sharp blades, I’d have been worried.’

‘I’m serious. It’s weird. He doesn’t just watch the women that appeal to him; he sort of visually dissects them. It’s like he’s hunting for something. Or someone.’

Waiting until Carol had returned to her work, Wednesday opened the top drawer of her desk and stared at the napkin she’d slipped in there an hour ago.

That lunchtime, as usual, Wednesday had been trying not to make it obvious that she was watching the coffee guy as he was watching her, when he’d surprised her by a break in his routine. He had got up to leave the cafe exactly two minutes earlier than usual.

As he passed her table en route to the exit he’d almost brushed her shoulder, but not quite. After dropping a napkin lightly onto her lap without uttering a word of explanation, he’d walked out of the door and disappeared into the afternoon.

Back in the safety of her office, regarding the folded serviette as if it were an unexploded bomb, Wednesday felt her palms prickle with perspiration. By comparison, her throat had gone Sahara dry. Even though he hadn’t looked at her as he’d passed by, Wednesday had the strangest sensation that his inkwell eyes saw straight into her soul. That somehow the coffee guy knew what her late night dreams were about.

And who they featured.

Checking to make sure that Carol wasn’t watching her, Wednesday unfolded the note and read the neat looped writing.

 

I would very much like to see you, Wednesday, on Thursday. I need to check you weren’t burnt. Regards.

 

Thursday? That’s tomorrow. But when tomorrow? Did he mean he wanted to apologise for spilling the coffee? If so, why hadn’t he said so before? The accident was days ago. And what did he mean by I need to check?

Wednesday pictured the coffee guy steering her into the nearest secluded area of town, trapping her between a wall and his six foot frame, ripping open her shirt, passing his gaze over her pale flesh to check for burn marks…

A sudden tightening of her chest made Wednesday drop the note and slam her desk drawer shut. If she carried on like this, not only would she fail to get anything done, but she’d be sat in damp panties for the rest of the workday.

Again.

*****

If you’d like to find out what happens next, then you can buy Wednesday on Thursday in e-book format from Amazon UK and Amazon US. 

***

Many thanks to my lovely friend and fellow Brit Babe, Lucy Felthouse, for hosting me on her fantastic blog today.

Happy reading,

Kay xx

*****

Kay JaybeeBio

Kay Jaybee was named Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETO, and received an honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.

Kay Jaybee has written over 150 erotic stories, including Wednesday on Thursday, (KDP, 2017), The Collector, (KDP, 2016), The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, (The Perfect Submissive, The Retreat, Knowing Her Place, Xcite 2011-14), The New Room, (Xcite, 2015), The Voyeur, (Xcite 2012), Making Him Wait (Sweetmeats, 2012), A Sticky Situation (Xcite, 2013), Digging Deep, (Xcite 2013), Take Control, (1001 NightsPress, 2014), and Not Her Type (1001 NightsPress, 2013.

Details of all her short stories and other publications can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk

You can follow Kay on –

Twitter- https://twitter.com/kay_jaybee

Facebook –http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3541958-kay-jaybee

Brit Babes Site- http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk/p/kay-jaybee.html

Kay also writes contemporary romance as Jenny Kane – www.jennykane.co.uk

A “Those Boys” Backstage Pass by Alison Tyler (@alisontyler)

Those Boys“Those Boys” is the sequel to a “novelette” I wrote for Go Deeper Press called “Those Girls.” (Currently, I’m going a little Star Wars and writing the prequel, a full-length novel called “Those Days.”)

But right now, I thought I’d hand you a backstage pass and slip you behind the scenes on “Those Boys.” In the story, I mention a few specific items:

Excerpt:

The dressing room door opened and a silver-haired man stepped out. I was leaning across the counter, talking shop with Elizabeth, when the man pranced by us, a pretty, pretty pony. He had that shimmering mane of shoulder-length hair, obviously a premature gray because his face was young and unlined. Before he spoke, I had him summed up neatly. He was one of those boys. Those “I like my hair” boys. Those “I need your approval of my outfit, and it will take me six hours to choose a shirt” boys.

Yes. I’d known boys like him before.

 

In my mind, the unique shirts that Rem is shopping for are by Rockmount. And they’re not just any Rockmounts, but the Vintage Western Shirts. You can check out the variety on my brand-new “Those Boys” Pinterest page.

Excerpt:

“Safe word,” I said again, “one you’ll be able to remember.”

His eyelashes fluttered. He looked wildly around the room. What was he thinking? Window. Chair. Black. Rug. Girl. I came closer to the bed. I bent and whispered five-dollar words to him. “Narcissist. Peacock. Pretty boy. Preener.”

“Peacock,” he selected, and I couldn’t help myself. I looked over at Vanessa and grinned at her. She had her back pressed against the wall. That dangerously sheer dress of hers did nothing to hide her perfect form, did nothing to offer her protection. But I could tell that she felt invincible with the dress on, especially in comparison to the naked and captured boy on the bed.

 

The dress worn by Vanessa apparently doesn’t exist in real life—trust me, I’ve looked—but you’ll find one on my board from All Saints.

Excerpt:

I’m going to say right now that the boy delighted me. All his sub attitude was gone when he was on the stage. Yes, he preened, as I had known he would. He tiptoed along the edge of the stage. He shimmied. He swiveled. He catwalked in those tight black jeans. The crowd adored him. I could imagine how easy he’d have it, snagging up girls to take home, tying them down however they wanted him to. He looked like he could make your wickedest, filthy dreams come true.

Vanessa danced in front of me, ever so gently rubbing her body against mine to the music. I let her, not caring that she had me hard, that she was doing her best to get a rise from me. I wanted to swallow the show. I wanted to devour Rem whole.

After the concert, we went to the dressing room. Rem was in his black jeans, no shirt, sweat still covering his torso. He didn’t look surprised to see us. He didn’t look frightened. He looked as if he needed me. I live for that look.

 

Rem’s band in my head was drawn from a mix of a few different musical groups, but influenced definitely by the performers at Rene and Arlene’s engagement party on True Blood mixed with a long defunct rock-a-billy band I was acquainted with back in the day. (And when I say “acquainted,” I mean, yes, I did make-out with the lead singer.)

And then, of course, there are the sex toys… Let’s never forget the sex toys.

• paddle

• crops

• purple anal beads

I’ll be posting more images as the “Those Boys” tour continues. Please stop by my blog for the line-up. And hey, shouldn’t dream-shopping guides always be this much kinky fun?

Those Boys Pinterest Board: http://www.pinterest.com/LaptopTrollop/those-boys/

Those Boys Tour Guide: http://alisontyler.blogspot.com/2014/06/those-fucking-gorgeous-boys.html

Alison Tyler is the author of more than 25 erotic novels, most recently Dark Secret Love and The Delicious Torment. Her work has been hailed as “kink that makes you think” by the Portland Book Review and she’s been called “a hell of a writer” by super-star Violet Blue. Visit her at alisontyler.blogspot.com and follow her at twitter.com/alisontyler.

Q & A with Jocelyn Dex

demonsdoitbetterbannerQ: What’s your book, Araya’s Addiction, about?

A: Kean wakes up naked, collared and locked in a cell. To gain his freedom, Kean must provide Araya, a human-Sempire mix, with his semen to save her life and complete her transition to full Sempire. Problem is, she refuses it even though the lust between them is undeniable.

 

Q: Do you have a favorite quote or line from Araya’s Addiction?

A: I have several! Here’s one from Kean, the hero. “Either I’m giving you an orgasm or you’re giving yourself one. But I won’t be able to concentrate on anything else with the smell of your need clogging my brain. Your choice.”

 

Q: Where’s your favorite place to write?

A: I have two spots. One is a small chair and laptop table in one corner of my bedroom. The other is in bed with dogs cuddled up next to me. My youngest dog really doesn’t like it when I’m not paying attention to him, so he sometimes insinuates himself between me and the laptop. That’s when I have to move to my chair.

 

Q: Are you a plotter or a pantser?

A: Pantser. Wait, are you still considered a pantser if you aren’t wearing pants when you write?

 

Q: Is anything in Araya’s Addiction based on a real life experience?

A: Not in Araya’s Addiction but I wrote a sex scene for another story and told my husband that I wasn’t sure it would work. I joked that he needed to help me figure it out. He didn’t hesitate to say, “Let’s go.” Ha. I ended up slightly altering the scene after that.

 

Q: What was your favorite chapter or part in Araya’s Addiction to write and why?

A: I love writing the first sentence in any story! That is fun and exciting in my world. The first sentence in Araya’s Addiction is, “Kean always knew his dick would get him in trouble.” It’s a simple sentence but it makes me smile.

 

Q: Do you fear anything?

A: Zombies

 

Q: Last thing you ate?

A: Vegetarian Chicken Nuggets

 

Q: Introvert or extrovert?

A: Introvert

 

Q: Housework before writing or writing before housework?

A: HA! Much to my husband’s dismay, writing before housework. I’m sorry, awesome husband, but when the writing is going well, I just can’t make myself care about fur balls on the floor or about a cat turd the dogs pulled out of the litter box. Gross, I know. But hey! I’ll clean it up later. I swear!

 

Thanks for having me here today, Lucy!

 

Araya's AddictionAraya’s Addiction Blurb

When Kean wakes up naked, collared and locked in a cell, he knows thinking with his dick has finally gotten him into trouble. Kean, part Incubus, enjoys scorching and frequent sex. One night, he finds himself a prisoner forced to help a Sempire rescue her daughter from certain death.

To gain his freedom, Kean must provide Araya with his semen to save her life, but she refuses it, even though the lust between them is undeniable. Determined to escape and to help Araya, Kean ups the stakes and forces Araya into a situation that makes it impossible for her to continue refusing him. Feeling betrayed, Araya enacts a scheme to get Kean out of her life. Her best laid plans may awaken emotions that will bind them to each other forever.

Here’s where you can find me on the web. I’d love it if you’d like me, fan me, follow me, etc. New authors need love too!

 

Website: www.jocelyndex.com

Blog: http://jocelyndex.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jocelyn-Dex-Author/380700161994310

Twitter: @jocelyndex

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/Jocelyn_Dex

Buy Link: http://www.ellorascave.com/araya-s-addiction.html

*****

I’m offering a prize pack to one person (U.S. & Canada).

  • A $5 Amazon gift card
  • An Araya’s Addiction Trading Card
  • A “Demons do it Better” Koozie
  • A surprise $10 Gift Card

Just leave a comment with your email address for your chance to win. Winner will be chosen on the 17th January. Good luck!

Guest Blogger: Valerie Mann

I’ve Been Reincarnated

Don’t ask me how I know this, but it’s obvious I wasn’t always a white female baby boomer. What was I in a previous life? A Latina. Probably from the Caribbean or Central America, and very passionate about her culture. And her men. Oh yeah.

I don’t even believe in reincarnation, but the facts are very clear:

  1.  All but one of my published stories contains a Latin character. I didn’t realize this until I counted.
  2. Even when I don’t intend it, a Latin character sneaks into my work. Always. Not saying they’re sneaky on the whole, just saying MY Latin characters are. The men especially. Obviously, they know they’re welcome.
  3. I took four languages in high school, including several years of French and Russian. One year of español…and it’s the only language I remember and can still read and understand. If that’s not proof, I don’t know what is. Nobody remembers high school languages. Seriously, don’t lie, you know I’m right.
  4. I used to get teased at work for eating pickled jalapenos and other hot peppers for lunch (my mouth just started watering as I typed that).
  5. I think any food that ends in –ito or –illa should be part of the Food Pyramid.
  6. I made Mexican Lasagna last night for dinner. Ate leftovers for lunch. With a lovely hot sauce on the side.
  7. The list goes on and on…

I don’t know why I have this unusual fascination with all things Hispanic. But I’m chalking it up to a past life. It makes sense. Of course I also get choked up when I see pictures of the Scottish Highlands, I make a mean shortbread, and when I smell heather, I swoon. But I don’t write about men in kilts or clansmen, now do I?? More proof I have salsa, not haggis, running through my veins.

In my latest book, First Comes Marriage, I brought two new Latinos to the 1Night Stand series at Decadent Publishing. Alex showed up first, because he’s self-centered and likes face time (and he’s so darn cute, I couldn’t say no), but the story is about his brother, Christian Ramos and the lovely Anglo, Beth Malone. While culturally and ethnically quite different, they both have the same wants and goals, and when they reach a crossroad in life at the same time, Madame Eve steps in and offers more than a one-night stand date. She offers marriage! An arranged marriage. What might have sent Beth and Chris running and screaming in opposite directions not so long ago, now seems like something that just might work. Did it work?

Read for yourself.

*****

Excerpt:

“We need to get this over with.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “Get what over with?” But she knew.

He dropped his hand and gave her a rueful smile. “We’re married. I want to make love to my wife.” He waited for her to respond again and when she didn’t, he added, “Now.”

Beth blinked. Her heart started beating again. She liked a man who knew what he wanted. Especially when he wanted her. Stretching up, she gave him a light kiss. He clasped her waist with both hands and pulled her against him, fusing his mouth to hers, nothing like he had during their wedding. He invaded her, tasting and exploring with his tongue, forcing her to open for him.

She wound her arms around his neck and gave in, letting the invasion happen. Every fear disappeared and the only trembling happening was from desire. Her breasts swelled, aching to be touched. She wanted him. How wonderful he was hers.

Chris eased away but didn’t let go, wearing the same dazed look she must have had after their wedding kiss. He stepped back a few paces, bringing her with him, until he reached the bed.

“Turn around.”

Beth narrowed her eyes but obeyed. The zipper on the back of her dress descended and the silky garment puddled at her feet as he turned her back to face him. His hungry gaze swept over her, and she shivered with anticipation. Leaning in, he kissed the space between her breasts, his face tight with desire. No man had ever looked at her body that way…so appreciative.

Reaching behind her, he unhooked her bra, and tossed it on the floor to join the dress. Her nipples stood at attention, swollen and needy. She shivered again.

He tilted his head back. “Am I going too fast?”

She cupped his face and gave him a hard kiss. “Hurry,” she whispered.

*****

Who agrees to an arranged marriage in the 21st century? Beth Malone can’t believe a date request with the 1Night Stand service morphed into an arranged marriage offer. But after a heartbreaking divorce and no knight in shining armor coming to sweep her off her feet, her desire to find that knight and have a family is looking more like a dream than a reality.

After filling out a 1Night Stand questionnaire worthy of the CIA, Christian Ramos is stunned when Madame Eve offers to arrange more than a date for one night: she suggests a wife! What the hell? After his best friend Jackson Castillo stops laughing, he advises him to consider the offer. Between the fortieth birthday looming on the horizon and his Latino upbringing, Chris is forced to take a hard look at his life. Reality check—time is running out for what he wants—a family and a woman to share his life.

First comes love, then comes marriage isn’t part of their matrimonial situation, but neither Beth nor Christian anticipated the immediate attraction and contentment that comes with saying, “I do.”

Decadent Publishing | Amazon | All Romance | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords

*****

Valerie Mann has lived from sea to shining sea and currently resides in Raleigh, North Carolina. She has her own romance hero husband, five children, and two lazy cats. She started writing when she figured out her school chums would listen to her stories, with “The Stolen Ring”, a riveting tale about a ring stolen from a museum gumball machine, being her first critical success. Between family, authorly stuff, managing and editing for an electronic publisher and whatever else she can cram into a day, she’s having way too much fun. She loves to hear from her readers! ValerieMann09@yahoo.com

Email | Twitter | Facebook | Blog | Amazon | Goodreads | Manic TRR

*****

COMMENT TO WIN!

To win a copy of Valerie’s first 1Night Stand book, To Feel Again, and a $5 Amazon gift card, just leave a comment about who you think you’d like to be if you were reincarnated. Make sure to leave your email address in the body of the comment, so Valerie can choose the winner on the 8th December. Good luck!

Guest Blogger: Karenna Colcroft

Accepting a Fantasy

We all have fantasies. Some that we would never want brought into reality, some that we wouldn’t mind but are unlikely, and some that we really wish could come true.

When the possibility of fulfilling a fantasy is presented, sometimes it can be overwhelming. We have to wonder if it’s what we really want. If we even dare to accept the offer. Depending on what the fantasy is, we might even be afraid to take the chance on bringing it into the real world.

Some people fantasize about being submissive to another. And some are afraid to act on that because they aren’t sure what it will mean to give up control to the other person. On the other hand, some fantasize about dominating another and are afraid to act on it.

In my Ellora’s Cave Quickie Blow Out the Candles, Tracy has fantasized about her friend Darin since college. And as the years have passed, her fantasies have expanded to being dominated by him. She has never dared to act on those fantasies before because she’s a little afraid of her own submissive side, but now she’s ready to try.

Darin confesses he has fantasized about Tracy as well but has been worried about dominating her. He is a Dom, but isn’t ready to be Tracy’s Dom quite yet. He is, however, ready to consider acting on the fantasy.

Sometimes when you confess your fantasies, you find more than you expect. And it can be better than you imagine.

Contest: Have you ever acted on a fantasy? Answer below. (You don’t have to say what the fantasy was, just yes or no…) One commenter will win a PDF copy of Blow Out the Candles.

You can find Blow Out the Candles at Ellora’s Cave, http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10318-blow-out-the-candles.aspx. Find out more about Karenna and her books on her website, http://www.karennacolcroft.com.

Blow Out the CandlesBlurb:

For years Tracy has lusted after her friend Darin, but has never dared act on her craving. She’s always been a little afraid and a lot excited by his dominant tendencies. But when Darin reveals the desire is mutual, a dinner invitation quickly turns to something more—and Tracy is ready and willing to submit.

Excerpt:

His fingers tightened in her hair and he began to move her head. She allowed it, knowing he wanted her to suck him in a way that would make him come. He had to be close.

When he came, he did so without a word. He bucked, pushing his cock farther into her mouth, and his hand clutched her hair still more tightly. A sudden spurt of semen filled her mouth and she swallowed reflexively, tasting the sweet salt. Another spurt followed and then another, and she drank it all down triumphantly.

He released her and abruptly pulled out from her mouth. She sat back on her heels and looked up at him, sliding her tongue over her lips to catch every trace of his cum. “You’re a good cocksucker, babe,” he said. “Too damn good. I didn’t mean to come.”

“I wanted you to.” She stood and smiled. “You’ve gotten me off more than once. This time was your turn.”

“I wanted to come in your cunt.” He sounded almost angry. “You ruined my plans. Do you know what happens when someone ruins my plans?”

“You fuck their brains out?” she asked hopefully. She doubted that was what he intended and her heart sped up at the possibilities. She didn’t know what she was in for now and that excited the hell out of her.

“Eventually.” He grasped her wrist and yanked her toward him, falling backward onto the bed at the same time. She landed on top of him. His cock began to harden again between them and she wriggled against it until he stopped her with a sharp smack on her ass. Startled, she looked at him. “First I spank them,” he said.

More moisture gathered between her legs and sparks slid along her skin. She’d never let a man do something like that to her and wasn’t sure she wanted it. But part of her was clearly excited by the idea. “What if I don’t want to be spanked?”

He smacked her again and she cried out. “I don’t remember giving you the choice. If you want me to stop just say the word.” He stroked her hair. “The correct word this time. I won’t do anything you don’t want. If you don’t tell me you don’t want it, I’ll have to assume you do.”

“I thought you weren’t going to punish me tonight.”

He chuckled. “I wasn’t. Then you took initiative one time too many. This isn’t about you doing what you want, Tracy. This is about you giving up control to me. If you’re willing. I asked you about limits; you gave me none. Do we need to stop now and renegotiate?”

“You make it sound like a business arrangement.” She squirmed, trying to dull the pulsing between her legs. She wanted him too badly to stop and discuss anything.

“In some ways it is. In fact, if you decide you want more after tonight, we’ll have to do a written contract to make sure there are no misunderstandings and nothing gets forgotten. And yes, I’m serious.” He smacked her again, more lightly this time. “You made me come when I didn’t want to, and that has a consequence. Are we stopping now?”

She took a deep breath. She could stop him if she had to. Right then, she had no desire to stop him. She wanted to finish what they’d started. “No. Don’t stop.”

She waited for his palm against her ass again but he didn’t administer another spanking. Instead he caressed her as she lay against him. The gentle touch surprised her and added to her need to have him inside her again. She squirmed and tried to move into position to take him into her cunt but he immediately wrapped his arms around her and held her still.

“I’m enjoying this too much,” he said. “Don’t worry, you’ll have exactly what you want, but first I get what I want.”

***

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Guest Blog: Cindy Spencer Pape

Moonlight & Mechanicals, A Gaslight Chronicles novel by Cindy Spencer Pape

First of all, I’d like to thank Lucy for having me here today. Secondly, I’d like to chat about a little something that comes up in several of my steampunk books: condom use.

Whether you find that protection interferes with the fantasy in a romance novel or not, sometimes I think we do our readers and our characters a service by showing them being cautious. Condoms in the mid-nineteenth century in England were more common than you might think. In fact, condoms go back a lot further than you may have guessed. I’ve researched this more extensively than I ever thought I’d need to, and here is a little synopsis of what I’ve learned.

The first written reference to what we now call a condom was by an Italian scientist named Fallopio (yes, as in Fallopian tubes) in 1564. He claimed to have “invented” a device to prevent the spread of venereal disease. The description isn’t very detailed, but apparently it was a linen sheath that fit over the glans. He actually tested it on 1100 men and none of them became infected. So the condom for disease prevention isn’t a recent phenomenon. Another doctor published something similar in 1597. From there forward, there’s a pretty clear record of condom use and innovation. They’re mentioned in a French play from 1655, maybe in the correspondence of two French noblewomen from the late 1600s and quite extensively in the memoirs of the legendary Giacomo Casanova, published in 1797. The famous lover didn’t much like them and there’s an engraving in the book of he and a friend inflating them like balloons to entertain a pair of ladies, thus starting a proud tradition carried out by high school boys to this day. The word condom dates in print to 1706, in a poem, but the origins of the word remain a mystery. Legend says that a Dr. Condom introduced them to Charles II of England as a means of preventing additional illegitimate offspring, but no support of this has ever been found, and it’s now assumed to be a myth.

By the late 1700s you could find prophylactics made of hand sewn goat, sheep, or cow intestine, tanned fish skin, oiled silk, or even very fine leather. Some covered the whole penis, others were caps or “capottes” that just covered the glans, and most had a drawstring at the base to hold them in place. Condom technology really took off in the 1800s. They had great names like cundums, French Letters, French Preservatives, Male Safes, English Armor, and “Patent Circular Protector.” Early experiments with rubber were fairly unsuccessful, until Goodyear and Hancock (separately) in about 1844 invented the vulcanization process. The new technique allowed for much more durable protection, though the resulting condoms were thicker than those made of skin. They were also designed to be washed out and reused until the rubber started to crumble. The first advertisement for rubber condoms appeared in the New York Times in 1861, so we know they were widely available by then. In 1873, the Comstock Act prohibited the sale of contraceptives by mail in theUS, so for many years, they became harder to get with relative anonymity. The reservoir tip was added in 1901, and a method for making them without seams was discovered inGermany in 1912. In 1930 the latex condom was introduced, thus creating the rubber we know today.

 

Below is a little snippet from “Moonlight & Mechanicals.” I hope you can see what I mean about the protection fitting into and even being a part of the story.

“I didn’t get to the chemist.” His breath was shallow and choppy as he peeled away the rest of her clothes. When she stood there in nothing but stockings and garters, he groaned.

“In the drawer beside the bed. I stole some from the boys’ bathroom.” Her hand moved down to a garter and he growled.

“Leave those.” He’d remember the sight of her in just her stockings for the rest of his life. Now he wondered just how experimental his little firebrand could be. “Put your hands on the bureau and face the mirror.”

Her eyes widened, but she did as he said, leaning over the dresser with her delectable bottom pointed at him. It was all he could do not to spend then and there. With haste, he withdrew a French letter from the drawer and tied the sheepskin sheath over his penis. Then he stalked up to Wink.

“Watch the mirror.” He lowered his mouth to the side of her throat, sucking lightly on the spot where he’d marked her the day before. She quivered under his touch, moaning when he used his hands on her breasts. He watched over her shoulder, entranced by the sight of his darker fingers trailing over her fair skin and peach nipples. “You have freckles on your shoulders.” He hadn’t noticed those in his dimly lit room the night before.

She didn’t respond. He could see her fight to keep her eyes open as her arousal deepened.

He ran one hand down her flat belly to her mons. “Spread your legs a little and lean on the bureau more.”

She complied instantly, her backside brushing against his erection. Liam tested her, found her wet and ready for him. He positioned himself at her entrance and pressed inside.

“Oh.” Her eyes flew open and she met his gaze in the mirror. “That’s…nice.”

The angle allowed for deeper penetration and Liam nodded. He kissed her neck again, and used his fingers on her clitoris as he stroked in and out. It wasn’t long before she cried out his name and convulsed around him, her tight muscles milking his erection. His own climax speared through him and he shuddered helplessly as he poured himself into her heat.

*****

Moonlight and MechanicalsLondon, 1859

Engineer Winifred “Wink” Hadrian has been in love with Inspector Liam McCullough for years, but is beginning to lose hope when he swears to be a lifelong bachelor. Faced with a proposal from a Knight of the Round Table and one of her closest friends, Wink reluctantly agrees to consider him instead.

Because of his dark werewolf past, Liam tries to keep his distance, but can’t say no when Wink asks him to help find her friend’s missing son. They soon discover that London’s poorest are disappearing at an alarming rate, after encounters with mysterious “mechanical” men. Even more alarming is the connection the missing people may have with a conspiracy against the Queen.

Fighting against time—and their escalating feelings for each other—Wink and Liam must work together to find the missing people and save the monarchy before it’s too late…

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Barnes & Noble

*****

About the Author:

Award-winning author of over forty popular books and novellas in paranormal, historical, and erotic romance, Cindy Spencer Pape is an avid reader. According to The Romance Studio, her plots are “full of twist and turns that keep the reader poised at the edge of their seat.” Joyfully Reviewed said, her “colorful characters and plot building surprises kept me spellbound,” and Romantic Times Magazine says her “characters are appealing, and passionate sex leads to a satisfying romance.”

Cindy firmly believes in happily-ever-after. Married for more than twenty-five years to her own, sometimes-kilted hero, she lives in southern Michigan with him and two college-age sons, along with an ever-changing menagerie of pets.  Cindy has been, among other things, a banker, a teacher, and an elected politician, but mostly an environmental educator, though now she is lucky enough to write full-time. Her degrees in zoology and animal behavior almost help her comprehend the three male humans who share her household.

http://www.cindyspencerpape.com
Blog: http://cindyspencerpape.blogspot.com/
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Guest Blogger: Nephylim

INTRODUCTION

The very first story I published online was about vampires who turned out to be angels. I have always seen a connection between vampires and fallen angels and I’ve explored it quite a bit in my writing.

In these stories you’ll find a vampire and an angel but there is no connection and whether or not this angel is fallen depends, I guess, on the way you look at it. He’s definitely an insatiable monster but he’s still fighting on the side of the angels in the ultimate war of good and evil.

As well as vampires, I’ve had a fascination for paranormal beings of all kinds, especially shifters. The shifter in my collection is a werewolf. He’s in a bit of a mess emotionally and I’ve concentrated on that, rather than the  usual tormented soul of the monster thing. He’s definitely tormented but it’s the hormones.

There has always been a connection in mythology, I think, between vampires and werewolves and they have often been spoken of in the same sentence. They go together like nuns and bishops, vicars and tarts, apple pie and cream. I wonder why? There’s not much of a similarity. Apart from the fact they eat people.  Vampires can’t walk under the sun (NO not because they sparkle), but werewolves can. Werewolves only change at full moon, vampires can at will. Werewolves are mangy animals, vampires sexy and sophisticated.

I think the reason they are put together is because they appeal to our higher and lower instincts. Yes, the appeal is sexual, of course it is. Why else would we flock to see man/animals tear people apart? Because they’re sexy. The violence is sexy. The anticipation is sexy. And I don’t need to explain in what ways vampires are sexy… do I?

Vampires, I think, appeal to our sense of the aesthetic. Eternally young and beautiful. Refines ladies and gentlemen who drink wine from crystal goblets and wear beautiful suits and flowing gowns. The men are all slightly effeminate, with pale skin and long hair and the women are femme fatales. Sex on a plate.

Werewolves, on the other hand are animals, plain and simple. They appeal to our more base and carnal desires. The ones that want to be thrown on a bed and ravished. Hot breath on our bodies, huge penises thrust between our legs and the sense of danger that the teeth nipping our skin might just tear out our throats.

Anyway, that’s me. I’m a very sensuous and rather Freudian person. Everything boils down to sex in the end.

DESCRIPTION

Aster is a vampire looking for someone. When he finds Kia his plan is to fuck him and drain him, but Kia has other ideas. Recognising Aster as the man he’s been waiting for, he turns the tide and seduces him, shocking him with secrets from the past. Together, they enter into an encounter that blows their minds and changes their lives forever.

Lucien is a werewolf. He’s always known he’s different. Definitely not an Alpha like his father. More akin to the bitches than the muscular Beta’s or lithe hunters he finds himself drawn to. When the enigmatic lone wolf arrives, with his pure white hair and ice blue eyes, Lucien is lost at first glance. After a burning hot dream he finally submits to the dominant male destined to be his mate for life.

Dema and Meri’el are an unlikely coupling. In the final war against good and evil they find themselves on opposing sides. Dema the demon and Meri’el the son of the King of Angels. Drugging each other with their bodies they unleash the primal fury of their true natures and rock the foundations of the earth and the heavens.

Grey doesn’t believe in curses. When he uncovers a cavern deep under the mountain feared by the villagers as a faery tomb, he scoffs at the superstition, until he meets a stranger who lures him into the wood. A steamy encounter in a forest glade has him wondering if being cursed is such a bad thing after all.

Shay is mourning the death of his soul mate, tormented by the fact he’d never told him how much he loved him. A knife in the back in a dark alley steals his chance to finally prove his commitment, until ghostly whisper in the same alley leads to a night of passion and the second chance both men crave, to finally find peace.

EXCERPT

And then… wolves do not mate gently. We do not know how. One minute he’s licking me gently, and the next he’s leaping off me, turning me onto my stomach and sliding his claws into my hips. I struggle and howl but, before I can do much I feel his weight on my back and then…

He thrusts into me, deeply and powerfully. I howl again, throwing back my head and releasing the frustrations of eighteen years’ self-inflicted celibacy. My teeth descend, my claws raise a cloud of feathers from the bed and my tail whips his face as he pumps, hard and fast. My dick, swinging beneath me sends sparks into my head where it brushes the bedclothes, and his claws penetrating and retracting from the flesh of my hips only heightens the experience.

 

BLURB

Five stories of the paranormal, designed to thrill and tease the senses and to challenge all you’ve ever been told about the creatures that go Hump in the Night.

 

BUY LINKS

All Romance http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-humpinthenight-786310-144.html

Amazon (UK)  http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hump-Night-Gay-Erotica-ebook/dp/B007Y7IC9S/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1336126590&sr=1-1

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Hump-Night-Gay-Erotica-ebook/dp/B007Y7IC9S/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1336126590&sr=1-1

Apple  http://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/hump-in-the-night/id524978900?mt=11

 

BIO

Nephylim was born into a poor mining family in the South Wales Valleys. Until she was 16, the toilet was at the bottom of the garden and the bath hung on the wall. Her refrigerator was a stone slab in the pantry and there was a black lead fireplace in the kitchen. They look lovely in a museum but aren’t so much fun to clean.

Nephylim has always been a storyteller. As a child, she’d make up stories for her nieces, nephews and cousin and they’d explore the imaginary worlds she created, in play.

Later in life, Nephylim became the storyteller for a re enactment group who travelled widely, giving a taste of life in the Iron Age. As well as having an opportunity to run around hitting people with a sword, she had an opportunity to tell stories of all kinds, sometimes of her own making, to all kinds of people. The criticism was sometimes harsh, especially from the children, but the reward enormous.

It was here she began to appreciate the power of stories and the primal need to hear them. In ancient times, the wandering bard was the only source of news, and the storyteller the heart of the village, keeping the lore and the magic alive. Although much of the magic has been lost, the stories still provide a link to the part of us that still wants to believe that it’s still there, somewhere.

In present times, Nephylim lives in a terraced house in the valleys with her son and her two cats. Her daughter has deserted her for the big city, but they’re still close. The part of her that needs to earn money is a lawyer, but the deepest, and most important part of her is a storyteller and artist, and always will be.

 

GENERAL LINKS

Goodreads – http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4462803.Nephylim

Blog – http://Nephylim-author.blogspot.co.uk

Facebook Page https://www.facebook.com/Nephylim.author