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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 – http://www.harlemdae.com  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.

Links

Tour Information/Where to find all the chapters – http://www.harlemdae.com/p/sexy-as-hell-on-tour.html

Harlem Dae Website – http://www.harlemdae.com

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?”

“Yes.”

“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.

Interview with Zee Monodee

Bad Luck With BestiesTell us about yourself. Both your writing self and your non-writing self. What are your interests and hobbies? Do you have a day job, etc?

Hello everyone! Pleasure to be here; thanks to lovely Lucy for inviting me over. 🙂

Okay, about me… I’m 30 years old, and sometimes it feels like I finished secondary school yesterday. But I just need to glance at my 10-yr-old son to know that cannot be the case, and then into the picture comes the husband, this man I’ve been with for almost 12 years now without throttling him (or vice versa, lol!) I live in Mauritius, born and raised here actually, and despite a stint abroad in England, home is where the heart is and mine was always on my island (especially when I met my husband here while trying to get over a very bad divorce. Yep, you read that right – I was already married and divorced at 18).

So basically, I’m your typical fun-loving gal – I love pop music, fashion, movies, TV shows, soap operas. I’m of Indian origin, so anything with drama draws me like a magnet to iron. 🙂 And of course, I love to read. I could spend all my time in my reading corner downing book after book, but sadly, that’s not real life.

As for the day job, well I’m firstly a freelance editor, but since July 2012, I have been managing the Ubuntu line (geared to romance set in Africa and/or with African characters) at Decadent Publishing. It’s a challenging post but I relish a good challenge and there’s nothing I love more than finding a gem in the submissions and getting to bring an author into the spotlight.

And of course, I’m an author. I write mainly contemporary romance. Some of these works are set in Mauritius, where I showcase the culture I grew up in. Lately, a lot of my work is veering toward small town romances set in rural England – there’s something lovely and romantically magical to me about village life in the UK. Then I indulge my love of the paranormal (Uh, hello? I’m Zee and I’m a Supernatural junkie. Yes, the TV show) through the self-published Eternelles series I co-write with my bestie, Natalie G. Owens.

 

Give us the background on your latest release.

Well, I totally did not see this one veering into a series. It started as a thought a couple years back – I’d just finished dealing with a second bout of cancer (yes, 2x survivor of breast cancer here, and yes, too – it hit me twice in my 20s. Cancer doesn’t wait for later, so ladies, please take heed and check your boobies every month! It can save your life, like it did mine).

So yeah, there I was like a veritable encyclopaedia of first-hand cancer knowledge, and my bestie suggested: why not exploit all this and turn it into a story?

That’s how the character of Megha Saran was born, and her romance meant she fell in love with the most unlikely man ever – her super-playboy boss, Magnus Tramell. Now, Magnus’ family is very rich and in the village where they hail from, they’re almost considered like royalty. Since I’ve always loved the county of Surrey, it came as no surprise that I invented a small village there called Daimsbury.

Then life butted in and deadlines on other works crept up, so this story got relegated to the backburner. But sometime this year, one of the editors at Decadent Publishing mentioned a new line starting. In a nutshell, these would be category-style stories in a short length. Needless to say, I was intrigued. What could I write to submit to that line?

And the idea of Daimsbury popped inside my head again. Like, why not use a setting I’ve already created and peopled with some intriguing characters?

Now I’m a huge – and I really mean huge – fan of the TV show Supernatural. Jensen Ackles (considered by many, especially in the fandom, to be the hottest man alive) and Jared Padalecki (the hottest nerd alive, at least in the show, coz he’s no nerd in real life, lol) play two brothers fighting against Evil. So far, neither has got even the hint of a happy ending. It got me thinking – what if Dean and Sam (as they are known in the show) were regular blokes who also got a happy ending?

Jensen/Dean being the eldest, I had to start with him. J I wanted the characters in this series to be young, around their thirties. What sort of conflict can you give an early 30s bloke? Oooh, what if he had a teenage daughter? And what if this being-involved-in-a-teenage-pregnancy angle meant he lost the girl he really loved and wanted to marry all along? And what happened to this girl? That’s how Liam Morelli and Honor Whelan were born, and theirs became a story of former best friends finding themselves and a second chance at love over a Christmas season.

 

How did you get started with writing? And what was your route to publication like?

I have to say thanks to cancer for getting me to pursue my dream of writing. So there I was, just-turned 22. I was happily married, had an adorable toddler, and even my then-5-yr-old stepson seemed to like me and didn’t see me as an evil stepmum or something. 🙂 I’d taken a break from corporate work (I used to be an after-sales department coordinator) to bring up my son, and was pursuing my degree via distance learning on the side. Life couldn’t get any better. Then the lump came, seemingly overnight. Less than 2 weeks later, I had a diagnosis of super-aggressive malignant breast cancer and it was a miracle I was still alive.

You know when they say that facing death and getting away with it gives you a different outlook, like a second chance at life? I was alive, and wanted to celebrate that fact every single moment of my life. It had always been my dream to write ‘one day’, but when I told my husband about this, he told me this: ‘One day is now. You make it happen.’

So that’s how I picked up the pen (and the keyboard) to start my first story. Writing this tale of divorce in Mauritius and a second chance at love became an anchor to me, and it kept me going and powering on between chemotherapy sessions and all the other treatments for the cancer.

That story was first published in Mauritius, in print. But my writing proficiency didn’t match the local market’s pace, so I turned to e-pubs in the US to push my work through. And that’s been it. Never looked back again. 🙂

 

What are you currently working on?

Well, I just finished my first NaNoWriMo, and the novel I penned for that challenge ended into a longer, single-title romance. Set in a rural village in North Yorkshire, it’s the tale of an anorexic supermodel whose family kidnaps her from backstage at a fashion week and forces her to lay low in this village until she’s realised how much she’s putting her life in danger because of the anorexia. On the first morning there, the model tries to break out…only to land onto the path of the very handsome, Viking-god-like pub owner and chef. Suddenly, staying in this sleepy place doesn’t look like Purgatory anymore.

It’s Book 1 in a series I’ve titled Havisham Park. I am now editing and polishing before I can submit this to a publisher. It’s fun, because I had to learn how to speak Yorkshire (which is a veritable other language from English, lol!) and then the village and its inhabitants came to life while I was writing. I’ve totally fallen in love with this world and cannot wait to get back to it.

 

Do you have a particular Muse for your writing? Do any of your characters bear startling resemblances to sexy celebrities or people you admire?

Muse? No, not really. I do hear ‘the voices’ though *grin* Authors will know what I mean. But yeah, characters scream to be written, and that’s muse enough for me.

And yes – almost every time, my characters will bear striking physical resemblances to sexy celebrities, especially men I’ve ogled/found hunky. The heroines, too, will look like someone famous. For example, in Bad Luck With Besties, Book 1 in The Daimsbury Chronicles, you already know that Liam Morelli, the hero, is templated off actor Jensen Ackles. Honor Whelan looks a lot like Katie Perry (especially with her blunt-cut fringe and those big eyes).

I prefer to work with a physical likeness because I always visualize my scenes before I write them, and this is easier to do when I have a definite physical image in my head, like an actor/puppet I’m having play out the scene. Helps keep my focus and consistency, then.

And yes, too – creating hunky romance heroes is a perfect excuse to indulge in eye candy research 🙂

 

Where do you see yourself in five years? Both writing-wise and non-writing-wise?

Writing-wise: a few series under my belt, and hopefully, these will be successful ones so I’ll still get to indulge in dabbling into those worlds and bringing their inhabitants to life for the length of a story. I hope to be a ‘recognised’ name by then, and readers seeking my stories for a good time.

Non-writing-wise: …to tell you the truth, I have absolutely no clue here. 🙂 Hopefully, still married to my wonderful husband and watching the kids grow. My stepson will be out of the house/an adult by then, while my son will be in the last years of secondary school. I hope both will have grown into decent, respectable men and beautiful human beings. And yeah – me celebrating another 5 years of being cancer free.

 

And now for some silly questions…

Muscled or skinny?

Muscled. Not the bodybuilder type coz that’s a bit freaky, but some muscle even on a lean frame is, imo, necessary (and yeah, a man cannot, I repeat, cannot, have smaller hips than I do!)

 

Tall or short?

Tall. At 5’2, almost any male will tower over me, but I love my high heels so my man’s got to be tall for us not to look like Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise 🙂

 

Boxers or briefs?

Doesn’t matter. He’ll lose either when it matters *wink*

 

Moustache or beard?

Beard + moustache or nothing at all. I find moustache-alone rather creepy 🙂 And beards can be sexy

 

Long hair or shaven head?

Hmmm… Both have their particular allure. I’d go with shaven head, though, coz I tend to find balding men sexy (hello, Jason Statham!)

 

Tattoos or piercings?

Tattoos! Piercings are scary, like, what if I hurt him without meaning to because of that scrap of metal in whatever-body part? 🙂

 

Intelligent or funny?

I’d go with funny. Nobody likes a bore, even if he’s super intelligent. 🙂 That being said, nerds are sexy, though…

 

Blond, brunette or red head?

Being of Indian origin and living in a land where almost everyone has dark hair, I have a definite propensity to like blond men (half my heroes, or more, are blond…)

 

Hottest celebrity (tell us why, if you like)?

Hmmm, now that’s a very tough one…. So many to choose; do I have to settle for just one? It’s a tossup between Hugh Jackman and Chris Hemsworth. Yes, they’re both gorgeous men with adorable smiles and voices to make you swoon, but what attracts me most on top of all that is they’re both family men. I find that the epitome of hotness – a man dedicated to his wife and children.

 

Top same-sex crush (or opposite sex if you already like same-sex!)

Another tough one…. Charlize Theron. That woman kicks arse and she is gorgeous! 🙂

 

Most disliked celebrity (tell us why, if you like)

Kim Kardashian. Do I really need to state out the obvious why? 🙂

 

Favourite food

Hands-down, pizza!

 

Favourite book (tell us why, if you like)

The Undomestic Goddess by Sophie Kinsella. It is funny and smart and somehow, real, because this could totally happen, and I love the way the heroine’s eyes become open to what really matters in life. And yes, the laughter. 🙂

 

Favourite place in the world (tell us why, if you like)

My home country, Mauritius. It’s got beauty and what I cherish most – tolerance. I’m a “covered” Muslim woman yet nobody gives me a second glance or calls me a potential terrorist here despite my conservative dressing-type.

 

Anything else you’d like to add?

Lol – I think I’ve rambled enough. *wink*

 

Now give us the blurb, an extract and buy links for your latest release.

 

Title: Bad Luck with Besties

Series: The Daimsbury Chronicles

Book #: 1

Genre: Contemporary romance

Heat level: Sweet

Publisher: Decadent Publishing, LLC

 

Blurb:

Honor Whelan always trips into bad luck with male best friends. Abandoned by her bestie of eleven years who got her pregnant during a one-night-stand, she finds herself destitute and alone, with no other choice but to head home to the Surrey village of Daimsbury.

Fifteen years earlier, Honor left Daimsbury because her then best friend and the boy she loved, Liam Morelli, got another friend pregnant.

Honor had run…but today, she can no longer hide. Especially not when fate knocks her straight into Liam’s path, and he starts to show signs of wanting a second chance.

Will her luck finally change or will she continue to fight bad luck with besties?

 

Excerpt:

She let her gaze travel to the dining table, bare except for the two white documents in stark contrast against the mahogany wood. Which one should she contemplate first? Not that she hadn’t spent the past three months pouring over them. Glancing at the papers shocked her with solid punch to the gut. Every single time.

What had she expected, really? Jonathan might have gotten her up the duff during one drunken night, yet he still remained totally gay. The flat and all its contents belonged to him. He wouldn’t get his hands on her book collection, that was for sure. Everything else, he’d ditched, like a person picked up a rotten sock with the barest pinch of fingers and tossed the smelly rag in the rubbish bin.

A flutter, akin to something pulling inside, started in her belly. She placed a hand on the spot where a baby grew in her. She could almost feel the kid calming from the touch. Doctors could say whatever they wanted; she knew her body. Her baby was alive and proud to exist. Why couldn’t Jonathan see that?

She sighed. Her gaze landed on the eviction papers. Her three months’ notice would run up tomorrow, and she no longer held hope that Jonathan would come round and tell her everything had been a mistake, that he hadn’t meant to eject her, and his child, out of his life and throw her out on her arse, to boot.

She’d been an idiot. The minute she’d confessed about her pregnancy, all shades of her best friend for the past eleven years had vanished. The cold, hard man she’d faced had turned tail and run to his former lover, the same one who had dumped him like a rotten sock, too. The most misogynistic bastard Honor had ever encountered. No wonder Jonathan, under his influence, sent her not only an eviction notice, but also the papers wherein he renounced all rights to the baby and requested she never bother him with anything pertaining to the child.

How could she have been so wrong about him? A tear rolled down her cheek. She should know, shouldn’t she, having an awful track record with male best friends. Hadn’t Liam Morelli gotten Rose Payne, the other member of their trinity, pregnant when they’d been seventeen?

And speaking of Liam. No, she couldn’t think of him. He’d returned to Daimsbury where she was headed, but no other choice lay before her. She had to go back, because the family house in that Surrey village was her only remaining possession.

Buy Links:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Decadent Publishing

 

Now give us your author bio and website/social media links.

ProfilePicStories about love, life, relationships… in a melting-pot of culture

Zee is an author who grew up on a fence – on one side there was modernity and the global world, on the other there was culture and traditions. Putting up with the culture for half of her life, one day she decided she’d stand tall on her wall and dip toes every now and then into both sides of her non-conventional upbringing.

From this resolution spanned a world of adaptation and learning to live on said wall. The realization also came that many other young women of the world were on their own fence.

This particular position became her favourite when she decided to pursue her lifelong dream of writing – her heroines all sit ‘on a fence’, whether cultural or societal, in today’s world or in times past, and face dilemmas about life and love.

Hailing from the multicultural island of Mauritius, Zee is a degree holder in Communications Science. She is married, mum to a tween son, & stepmum to a teenage lad.

Website & blog: http://zeemonodee.blogspot.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/ZeeMonodee
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/#!/zee.monodee
Goodreads:  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4836171.Zee_Monodee
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/zeemonodee/

Thanks again for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed this interview and wish you the best of luck with your latest release. Many sales!

Random Acts of Trust by Julia Kent

Random Acts of TrustFrom New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent comes the newest book in the Random series…

Giving up is hard…but giving in is even harder.

When did my life become a demented episode from The Mindy Project?

Moving to Boston to begin grad school meant I was supposed to start a new life — not dig through a past I thought I’d left behind four years ago. But when I saw the poster for Random Acts of Crazy, all I could think about was the drummer, Sam Hinton, the boy I’d loved in high school and who disappeared with my heart.

Who knew I’d become the living version of Magic Mike?

Seeing Amy Smithson at my gig and watching her win a kiss from my bandmate, Liam, was a gut punch. Four years ago we squared off in a high school debate that had higher stakes than we ever imagined, and here I was…wanting what I’d walked away from. Are there too many secrets between us to allow her to trust me again?

And can I trust myself?

The second book in the Random series after the wildly successful New York Times and USA Today bestseller Random Acts of Crazy, Random Acts of Trust is a New Adult romantic comedy that explores the love between one man, one woman, and ends with one Happily Ever After (and no cliffhangers or chickens!). Fate took their lives by storm four years ago and put an unbreachable gulf between Sam and Amy. This 87,000 word/346 printed page book asks: Can time really heal all wounds…or are some scars too deep?

Available from:

Amazon US
Amazon UK
Barnes & Noble
Kobobooks.com
Smashwords
Bookstrand
All Romance eBooks

*****

Bio:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent turned to writing contemporary romance after deciding that life is too short not to have fun. She writes romantic comedy with an edge, and new adult books that push contemporary boundaries. From billionaires to BBWs to rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every book she writes, but unlike Trevor from Random Acts of Crazy, she has never kissed a chicken.

She loves to hear from her readers by email at jkentauthor@gmail.com, on Twitter @jkentauthor, and on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/jkentauthor . Visit my blog at http://jkentauthor.blogspot.com

*****

There’s a huge giveaway over on Julia’s blog:

http://jkentauthor.blogspot.com/2013/12/random-acts-of-trust-giveaway-win-prize.html

Guest Blogger: A. M. Hartnett

I’ve had a few sneaky flings in my time. Nothing life-destroying, just a little naughty. I tried to capture a bit of that in Here For A Good Time (minus the sasquatch of a friend.) Their company retreat puts them in each other’s sights for a fling, but for Alexis and Kendrick, the excitement comes from sneaking around — beds, boats, back rooms.

I’d like to say my sneaky fling days are over, but as Alexis would probably say once she gave Kendrick a chance, never say  never.

 

Here For a Good TimeExcerpt:

‘Give it to me good,’ she said, pushing the words through her teeth. ‘Show me what you do to bad girls.’

His cock twitched and he lurched forward with a choking sound. It was the eye of the hurricane, the hushed, throbbing lull in which his belly heaved against her stinging ass and that glorious shaft pulsed.

‘Get that gag on now,’ she urged, and tipped her head back. ‘I don’t want to explain this to security.’

It wasn’t the only reason she wanted to be gagged. She wanted him to own her completely, including her voice.

She expected a hard ball, but instead her mouth was filled with a pliant sphere she could bite down on and with holes she could breathe through.

Behind the mask, Alexis squeezed her lids shut as he clamped down on her waist and resumed his punishing pace. He held back nothing, shoving deep and pulling out almost completely. She sucked one hard breath after another through her nose and pushed it out with a gurgle around the gag.

Just as the sting from one smack of his palm turned to heat, he delivered another one and sent her reeling. She’d never experienced anything like it. He’d tied her up and turned her into his hole to fuck.

Her climax erupted deep inside. It raced through her blood and rippled along her cunt, so powerful she saw gold and red bursting out of the nothingness behind the mask and rolled her eyes up into her head. Alexis screamed from the burning back of her throat. The gag did its job, stifling the lunacy that threatened to undo her.

The way she squeezed around him, she marvelled that he was able to keep going, but keep going he did. He gave her no reprieve. He worked into her pussy as unrestrained as ever, hand on her hip and fingers delivering smack after bruising smack on the ass.

‘This is what I do to bad girls,’ he said, his voice demonic. ‘I give them just what they have coming to them.’

 

Blurb

When Alexis booked her work retreat at The Deveaux, the most she had to look forward to was a bit of spa time on the company dime, but flashy salesman Chris Kendrick has an even better suggestion. For years they’ve had a hot and cold working relationship with a bit of flirting mixed in, and now is the perfect time to get that spark out of their systems.

Three days hopping in and out of beds (and other convenient places) shows Alexis that Kendrick’s smooth demeanour is more than just talk, and that aromatherapy and soft-tissue massages have nothing on Kendrick’s firm hand.

Available now on Kindle and Kobo.

 

Links

Web: www.amhartnett.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/amhartnett
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/annemarie.hartnett

 

About

A.M. Hartnett began writing in 2006 and has published more than thirty short stories. Her work has appeared in more than a dozen anthologies, including Cleis Press’s Sudden Sex: 69 Sultry Short Stories (Ed. Alison Tyler), and The Big Book of Orgasm: 69 Sexy Stories (Ed. Rachel Kramer Bussel). She has also written three novellas and a novel as Annemarie Hartnett. For more information on her publications, please visit www.amhartnett.com

One Flesh by Annabeth Leong

One FleshBlurb:

Leticia and Rosalie are planning their wedding, wanting very much to make their special day one to remember, but Rosalie has something else weighing on her mind, one more thing she wants to make as special and as memorable as the ceremony itself—their wedding night. Rosalie wants to be with Leticia in a way that neither of them had ever been with anyone else. But finding something that would be a first time for both of them turns out to be harder than expected.

As it turns out, there is one thing Leticia has wanted to do but has never trusted anyone enough to allow herself to overcome the fear of it. And it’s something that Rosalie has never done either.

The women discuss the idea of fisting as a means of connecting and forming an intimate bond with each other, one that they’ve never formed with anyone else. They’ve never loved or trusted anyone else they way the love and trust each other, and they are determined to find a way to make it work.

Excerpt:

“I’ll call tomorrow to tell the church how many flowers we want to order,” Leticia said, sighing and folding her notebook closed. No matter how many neat lists she made with her favorite purple pen, the sheer quantity of wedding-related details was overwhelming. “Can you call the caterer back, Rosalie? I still feel like they sneaked a charge in somewhere, but I can’t get a straight answer out of them about it.”

Her fiancée smiled indulgently. “Better yet. I’ll go in person on my lunch break, and they won’t know what hit them.”

“Great.” Leticia rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. She’d wanted to go to bed early, but another evening of wedding planning had made that completely impossible. She was excited to be marrying her one true love and all, but it was easy to lose track of that when she had fourteen phone calls to make and her mother demanded an e-mailed progress report every single night. “That’s got to be enough for now.”

Leticia stole a quick glance at Rosalie. She’d changed into a cute pair of pajamas when she got home from work, the childish pattern an odd contrast with her sophisticated coppery makeup. Leticia briefly fantasized about peeling the clothing away, revealing her lover’s curves and smooth brown skin. Unfortunately, at that very same moment, she had to stifle a yawn. She was so damn sleepy. They would need to get to bed immediately if she was going to give Rosalie proper attention.

“We can’t quit planning yet,” Rosalie said. “We haven’t discussed the most important thing, and it’s coming up soon.”

Leticia groaned. She flipped her notebook open again and paged through her color-coded, highlighted lists. “We’ve talked about everything I had listed for the day, and we even went over things that have deadlines coming up in the next few days. I don’t see what we’re—”

“The wedding night,” Rosalie purred. “We haven’t discussed that at all.”

There was no mistaking the sparkle in her eyes. Leticia actually blushed, the way she had at Rosalie’s makeup counter the first time they met, when the other woman’s soft words of praise, roughened by the obvious desire in her voice, had gotten Leticia so hot and flushed it had been impossible to identify the correct shade of foundation for her skin tone. She’d been forced to come back later, not that she’d minded.

Now that she’d figured out what Rosalie was hinting at, Leticia played innocent. For all her lover’s passion, her Catholic upbringing had left her with an adorable aversion to using direct language. Leticia loved to watch Rosalie get flustered while trying to explain her naughty desires. She batted her eyelashes and focused on her notes again. “We’ve reserved our hotel room the night of. We’ve got our plane tickets to Puerto Rico for the honeymoon a couple days after that. Everything appears to be in order.”

“The wedding night,” Rosalie said, apparently oblivious to Leticia’s teasing. She rolled her hands through the air, one over the other, the gesture an invitation to take the word “night” and run with it. “The whole reason I wanted an afternoon wedding was so we could have plenty of time together. Afterward. In the hotel.”

“You mean to take a good, long nap? I’m sure we’ll be tired after dealing with all the guests, and coming down from pre-wedding nerves, too.” Leticia couldn’t resist continuing the act.

“Not a nap. But I am talking about what we might do in bed.” Now Rosalie colored, a deep red undertone becoming visible beneath the screen of her makeup.

Leticia composed her face as much as she could manage and shrugged. “Oh, are you talking about sex?” A giggle threatened to slip through at Rosalie’s incredulous, exasperated expression. “I don’t know. I’ve read tons of articles about how people get so exhausted from all the things leading up to a wedding that they don’t even really want to have sex by the time the day is done. We’ll have plenty of time for that later in the honeymoon, won’t we?”

“Don’t even really want to have sex,” Rosalie repeated slowly, as if the phrase was a math problem and she couldn’t quite work it out. Her forehead wrinkled in utter puzzlement. A snort burst from Leticia. Realization dawned on Rosalie’s face. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the table and tossed it at her. They’d both collapsed in giggles by the time the thin paper floated airily to the floor beside Leticia.

Leticia allowed the force of her laughter to pull her off the chair. She crawled the short space to Rosalie’s chair and raised one brown foot to her lips. Leticia did enjoy a little foot worship now and then, but her current mood was far from reverent. Slowly, carefully, she slipped her mouth over Rosalie’s polished big toe. She licked until Rosalie’s breathing changed, confused between laughter and moaning. Then Leticia lifted off the toe and pressed her mouth to the sole of Rosalie’s foot. She inhaled, gripped the ankle tightly, and blew a powerful raspberry.

Rosalie squealed and tried to get away. Leticia smiled but kept up the wet, ticklish vibrations. Rosalie’s foot jerked in her hands. Leticia kept hold easily. She had plenty of practice restraining patients, which happened to have fun applications at home.

Rosalie writhed as she laughed. Leticia drew breath for another raspberry, but cut her eyes up as much as she dared. She didn’t want to miss the sight of her lover, breasts bouncing under her shirt as her rib cage shook, hips rolling as she struggled to get away, face squeezed tight as if to ward off the unbearable sensation of being tickled. Effectively, this previewed Rosalie’s orgasm. Warm arousal spread through Leticia’s body as she forced Rosalie to stay in this state, and as she looked forward to seeing the real thing very soon.

Rosalie rained playful blows onto Leticia’s head. “Why the hell am I marrying you?” It took forever for her to get the sentence out, as she had to gasp each word between shrieking laughs.

Leticia grinned and tugged at her lower legs. Her lover took the hint and rolled out of the chair to join her on the floor. Leticia wrapped her arms around Rosalie, who felt small and hot and curvy. She slipped one hand down to tickle between her ribs, rewarded by another delicious howl. Rosalie shoved at her chest. “You are evil, I swear.”

“I’m sorry,” Leticia said softly, managing to sound sincerely regretful. She kissed Rosalie’s temples with great tenderness, until her lover relaxed and stopped wriggling. Leticia murmured more soothing words, rubbing Rosalie’s back… then licked the side of her face.

Buy Links:
All Romance eBooks
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Barnes and Noble
Kobo
Storm Moon Press

 

Bio:

Annabeth Leong has written erotica of many flavors—dark, romantic, kinky, vanilla, straight, lesbian, bi, and menage. Her lesbian stories have appeared in the Lambda Literary Award-nominated Lesbian Cops, Circlet Press’s love-spell anthology Like Hearts Enchanted, Lovecraftian erotica book Whispers In Darkness, and others. When not writing erotica, she is frequently reading it. She has lived in six states in various parts of the United States, and traveled to most of the others. Annabeth believes passionately in freedom of speech, rights for people of all sexual orientations, and the need for compassionate religion. She loves shoes, stockings, cooking, and excellent bass lines.

Blood and Lust from Taryn Rose

Blood and LustI am so proud to present BLOOD AND LUST, my very first novella and second published work (the first, being L WORLD). Plunging into paranormal fantasy was a real treat after my foray into the lives of characters living in a contemporary and realistic world. I am a huge fan of True Blood and Anne Rice novels, and always viewed vampires as a kind of tortured superhero. My vampire heroine, Skarlet, is somewhat of a cross between Xena: Warrior Princess and True Blood’s Bill Compton (before he turned evil). What’s funny, is I recently met a charming aspiring Broadway star with some nice credits to her name. She, like my other heroine and Skarlet’s love interest, Emma, lives with a talented gay male couple in Greenwich Village. After hanging out with her, I thought, hmm, a theatrical, optimistic and open-minded girl would make a nice counterpart to Skarlet’s brooding, principled and introverted vampiress. And soon Emma was born. Though she is delicate physically, Emma is strong-minded, able to brave a brush with the supernatural, perhaps even ready to find love in the strangest of places. I have learned that, in a sense, realism becomes even more important in paranormal romance in that emotions and the connection between the heroines (or hero/heroine) are drawn from out-of-the-ordinary circumstances and perhaps even more powerful. The author must make those circumstances arise organically out of the underlying world she has created, but the connection and chemistry between the two characters must work on an intensely realistic level.

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble

*****

Blurb:

The eyes of a rising Broadway starlet are opened to a world she never knew existed, and a passion she never knew burned inside her… 

After an opening night party, Emma Jones naively accepts a ride home from her lecherous producer and finds herself in a desperate struggle. But when a beautiful, mysterious stranger rescues her, Emma realizes that the real danger may have just begun.
Her savior, Skarlet, is an agent of the Vampire Commission, a secret organization with an intense interest in Emma – – or more specifically, her blood. Skarlet’s mission is clear: deliver Emma into the clutches of the Commission. But as they near their destination, Skarlet cannot deny the intense attraction she feels toward her breath-taking captive. Emma is drawn to her magnetic heroine as well and a fateful decision sets the two on a path of extreme danger and forbidden love. As the Commission closes in, a startling discovery raises the stakes and both women must choose – – between all they’ve ever known and a passion they’ve never known before.

*****

Excerpt:

“Goodbye, Emma.” Skarlet turned abruptly to leave, her long leather coat spiraling around with her.

“Wait.”

She stopped.

“Look, I…I know we ‘never met before’, but I’m glad we did.” Emma’s eyes fluttered, as she struggled to find the right way to end the evening. Skarlet clasped her hand, and Emma stared into her intense eyes. She felt herself melting inside.

“So am I,” Skarlet uttered. “So glad.”

Emma took a breath, collecting herself. “I want you to come to my show. Tomorrow night at eight at the Evermore Theater. I’ll leave a ticket for you at the box office.”

Skarlet lifted Emma’s hand and kissed it, sending a tingle down Emma’s spine, and she felt an intimacy with this woman. The dark heroine who changed her life forever. Skarlet cupped her palms against Emma’s lower back suddenly, pulling her in, and Emma gasped at her sudden proximity to the woman’s lips. She held her gaze and froze as Skarlet brought her lips down to meet hers, kissing her. Gently at first, pressing her much larger breasts against her own. After a night of terror, Emma finally felt free, a feeling that magnified the waves of sexual energy that were surging through her body. She opened her mouth to catch a breath and sucked in the woman’s supple, assured lips, wanting nothing but to devour them. Her legs spread apart instinctually, a result of an aching that needed to be sated. And Emma recognized an urge she never felt before: To make love to a woman. An unbearable urge to be taken by Skarlet the vampiress in all her ferocity.

*****

About the Author:

Before embarking on her literary career, Taryn spent five years as an associate at a national law firm, fantasizing about writing novels instead of briefs. When she caught herself changing the facts of a case to make it sound more interesting, she knew it was time to move on. Taryn’s first book, L World, was an All Romance eBooks bestseller.

Connect with Taryn Rose
Blog: http://tarynroseauthor.blogspot.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TarynRose1
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/taryn.rose.92