Tag Archives: santa

Guest Blogger: Avril Ashton

sexy noel sleeping in a barnExotic dancer Monroe Calliste recognizes the reindeer shifter eyeing her with open curiosity as she performs on stage. She remembers too well the one night they allowed themselves free reign over each other’s bodies. But he doesn’t recall their tryst, or maybe pretends not to. Either way, Monroe sets out to give him a refresher course.

Dasher Petrovic has no memory of the coffee-colored temptress insisting they shared more than their bodies at one time. Monroe’s eyes reflect a mutual burn, but she can’t be right. If he’d spent even a second in her bed, he’d know. His ice melts under Monroe’s fire, but the question remains, what happened to his memory?

Buy Link: http://bit.ly/QW0l4j (Secret Cravings)

EXCERPT

Outside in the main area, she pulled the fedora low on her head, covering as much of her face as she could as she looked around for him. He was tall, way taller than her, but no matter how much she strained her neck she couldn’t find him. He’d left or maybe gone back into hiding.

Fuck.

Maybe the bartender, Ioan, remembered something about him. She pushed through the thick crowd and over to the bar. There he sat, beer still in hand, hunched over.

She allowed herself a quick drool over the way the white shirt he wore pulled tight over the muscles in his back, putting them on display. At one time, way back when, she’d had her legs around his neck, her fingers digging into all that muscle as he worked her over.

Hmm. Damn.

She was all wet, and he hadn’t even touched her, not that he would. She sidled up to the bar and hopped on to the stool next to him. Frustrated heat poured off him, intoxicating enough to make her forget place and time.

“Long time no see, shifter.”

His entire body froze.

Monroe smirked and turned her head as Ioan approached with her drink, a Grand Marnier, a splash of lemon juice, and three ice cubes.

To his credit, the shifter waited until Ioan moved away before he looked up at her. There again was the confusion, but he blinked, and it disappeared. Different expressions cycled quickly through his eyes; lust, need, confusion, until he settled on cold distrust. Oh, that one hurt.

“Do I know you?” A blank question before he raised the beer to his lips.

“Yes, you do.”

The blond hair he’d sported back then was shaved off until only a shadow remained on his scalp. His eyebrows and lashes gave him away. Lashes she’d been jealous of, they were so long and curly. His cheekbones were more prominent, the bump on his nose wasn’t there the last time, neither was the scruffy beard. Her shifter had gone through some changes.

“You do know me, shifter,” she said. “But more importantly, I know you.” She leaned forward and spoke into his ear. “The pretense doesn’t become you, reindeer.”

Except for the tightening of his knuckles around the beer bottle, he showed no outward signs of acknowledging her words. Monroe fisted her hands.

“Dasher Petrovic. Your name,” she whispered.

His body started shaking.

“Reindeer shifter.”

The shaking grew worse, and he’d closed his eyes.

“I’ve got more. I know more about you than I think you even know.”

“How?” The word rumbled in his throat. “How?”

Was he for real? Monroe frowned. “Two years ago you spent a weekend in my bed, Dash. I know everything because you told me.”

The beer slipped from his hands and spilled onto the bar top as his eyes stabbed into her. “No.”

Denial. Really? She lifted her head. “This isn’t the place for this conversation. Come with me.”

“Fuck that.” He shook his head. “Not happening.”

She smiled. “You and I both know you will.”

AUTHOR BIO/LINKS

l always wanted to have a sexy bio, one to reflect who I am, but after drawing a blank, l could only come up with: I eat cake and I read books…ooh, and I write ‘em too. No one liked it and after massive peer-pressure and pouting, I managed something more…suitable?

A Caribbean transplant, Avril now lives in Brooklyn, N.Y with a tolerant Spousal Equivalent. Together they raise an eccentric daughter who loves reading and school (not so much school anymore). Avril’s earliest memories of reading revolve around discussing plot points of Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys with an equally book-minded mother

Always in love with the written word, Avril finally decided to do the writing in August of ’09 and never looked back. Spicy love scenes, delicious heroes, and wicked women burn up the pages of Avril’s stories, but there’ll always be a happy ending; Av remains a believer of love in all its forms.

Visit: http://www.avrilashton.webs.com

http://www.avril-ashton.blogspot.com

Friend Avril on: http://www.facebook.com/writeravrilashton

http://www.twitter.com/#!/AvrilAsh

Goodreads:http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4623203.Avril_Ashton

Authorgraph:http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/AvrilAsh

The Romance Studio: http://www.theromancestudio.com/fm/aashton.htm

iTunes: http://itunes.apple.com/gb/artist/avril-ashton/id446081990?mt=11

Amazon Link:https://www.amazon.com/author/avrilashton

ARe: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Avril+Ashton

B&N Link: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/Avril-Ashton?keyword=Avril+Ashton&store=ebook

KOBO: http://www.kobobooks.com/search/search.html?q=Avril+Ashton&t=none&f=author&p=1&s=averagerating&g=both

Sony eReader: http://ebookstore.sony.com/author/avril-ashton_235888

Powell’s: http://www.powells.com/s?kw=Avril+Ashton&class=ebooks

Guest Blogger: Rawiya

Good morning. Recently I’ve crossed over into a new realm in my writing. I’ve done the M/M as well as the M/F. My latest, I Like Em’ Pretty is out now. And once again, I’m bringing a lady into the mix but this time, the men aren’t the couple. One of the males and the woman are. How different is that! Add to that mix the man has an attraction to the other guy and the feelings are mutual. Whoa! That sounds like tension but with only 15k to work with you can only solve so many problems. So needless to say, I have a full and a sequel coming for these characters. *adds to the already long list* That’s the fun thing about being a writer. A new plot bunny will always pop up even when writing a new story!

*smiles*

So what about my latest, Comet? Gabriel “Comet” Marrisco and his wife Shelba are happily married but Comet is attracted to Denny Brothers a charity worker who visits his veterinary clinic all the time. What to do? You have to find out in my book. Look for the next books to come out in 2013 at some point. *grins* I’ll keep you posted when they do.

*****

sexy noel sleeping in a barnGabriel “Comet” Marrisco is blessed with good looks, has a great career as a veterinarian and has a lovely wife named Shelba however, in December, he’s obligated to take off and be part of Santa’s Sleigh Team of Reindeer. Because of his deal with Father Christmas, he must make a regular human’s Christmas better than the last and grant a wish.

Denny Brothers, well respected charity worker, young, handsome, and unfortunately socially inept is searching for a boyfriend. Denny has never had a man and Father Christmas has asked Comet to find him a date and assist him in falling in love with someone else. However, Denny has a crush on Comet and the feelings are mutual. Will Comet be able to find him a mate when he wants him for himself? His very livelihood depends on his decision.

*****

Excerpt:

After visiting Gabriel in his office, Denny ran home to his beloved dog and lonely apartment on the north side of Chicago. His place was at the end of a quiet block in Lincoln Park, where many professionals lived. He’d had the studio for three years and loved the area because he could access all the shops and attractions by walking or bus. Not only that, his job at Cancer Charities was less than twenty minutes away, which made his decision to stay in the neighborhood even easier. Why move when he had everything right here?

Denny welcomed the chilly air after feeling Gabriel’s heated gaze upon him. He hoped the doctor hadn’t noticed the tent in his pants while they had talked. Denny had noticed Gabriel’s crotch several times and couldn’t help but stare. Too bad they couldn’t have taken care of one another properly.

With keys in hand, he opened the door to a three flat brownstone and sprinted to the first floor apartment. Although Denny’s place paled in comparison to others in size, it never bothered him because it was only him and Preston. And despite the fact property values had more than doubled since he’d moved in, his landlady, Mrs. Bagley, hadn’t increased the rent. She claimed to like him, especially since he always helped do yard work and small fixes around the building. Denny appreciated the elder lady’s generosity.

“Here boy!” Denny called out to his beloved chocolate lab, Preston.

Preston’s tail wagged behind him while he stood on his hind legs to greet Denny.

“Good boy. You’ve been a good dog today, huh? It’s not real cold outside so we can take a walk to the store and get some more of those treats you like.” Denny removed his jacket and hung it up on hook. He knelt down in front of his dog and rubbed under his chin while nuzzling the animal’s cold nose. “Whew, you need a bath and your teeth cleaned. Are you gonna be patient and let me clean you up?”

Seemingly the lab didn’t like Denny’s suggestion and whined in response.

“Aw c’mon boy, we might be going somewhere for the holiday. You know Doc Gabriel, right? Well, he invited us over for Christmas. You can’t go there smelling bad, you know. There’re other dogs for you to play with.”

When Denny mentioned that, the dog gave a hearty bark and licked his face as though he understood.

“Okay, okay, good, I knew that would sway you.” Denny laughed and stood up straight, then sighed and glanced at his empty place. “Well at least we might have a little fun on Christmas, Preston.”

Slowly, he walked to the mantle above the fireplace with Preston panting and wagging his tail while he followed. Attempting to hold back the tears, he stared at the picture of his family photo from four years ago, one of the last taken before he’d come out. They all looked so happy together, his father holding him tightly and mom leaning against his other shoulder. Denny was their only child and unfortunately, they couldn’t get past the fact he was gay.

Months later, they had thrown him out the house, telling him to never return until he had repented and married a woman. Denny’s folks were religious fanatics who didn’t believe someone could love their own gender.

Despite that, Denny didn’t hate his mom and dad. He still loved them and hoped they would understand his admission one day. Perhaps they could be a family again, but Denny wasn’t holding his breath. He’d prayed about it himself, but he knew it would take a miracle for that to happen. They hadn’t called, written, or even tried to come see him in three years. “Hope you’re havin’ a great holiday Mom and Pop.” While a tear slid down the length of his cheek, he traced the photo, wishing they’d at least return his calls. Regardless, he’d continue hoping they would give in.

Denny set the photograph down and turned to his dog who lay on the hardwood floor with his paws on his head. He wiped the moisture from Preston’s face and patted him. “Alright pal. We’ll just take the walk and I’ll save the bath and teeth cleaning for tomorrow. I don’t much feel like it anyway.”

Right then, the lab perked up and licked Denny’s face while he barked loudly.

“You’re happy about that, huh?” Denny held him close and planted a kiss on the animal’s head. “I’m too tired. I’ll get it done before the charity event since I’m taking you with me. Let me change so we can take a quick walk then. C’mon, boy.” He rose up and walked to his bedroom while he loosened his tie.

Preston jumped on the bed and watched him remove his shirt and search for a tee to put on.

While he looked, he thought back to the conversation he’d had with Gabriel at the office. Why did he come on to him like that and embarrass him? Gabriel had to have known Denny had a huge crush on him. He got an erection just thinking about the vet. Why did he have to be married? Yep, his wife stood in the way of who Denny considered to be his perfect match and now, he’d invited Denny to stay at his house for the holiday. Just what was he trying to do?

Denny wished he’d turned him down, but he just hated the idea of staying home alone for the fourth straight Christmas. At least Shelba and Gabriel would be good company and he’d get a great meal out of it, too.

Better than staying home with no one to talk to. Sure it would, but being around Gabriel would be torture the whole time especially when he couldn’t do anything about his feelings for him.

Darnit, why didn’t I meet him first?

*****

RAWIYA is the more sensual erotica writer in the BLRawiya duo. She loves multiracial characters who overcome obstacles other than race. Sweet, sassy, and spicy would be the best way to describe her work. Happily married mother of two, loves music, computers, and travel. She blogs regularly at Wickedly Sexy Writers. For more please visit the Rawiya’s blog on WordPress.

Guest Blogger: Robin Badillo

sexy noel sleeping in a barnBlurb:

Noah Donner had it all, good looks, great job and a kick-ass gift. As a special breed of shifter, every Christmas Eve he assisted Santa as one of his famous reindeer. A lover of all women, he’s the quintessential playboy. But all that changed within weeks of Christmas, when he found himself drawn to another reindeer shifter, Mira Prancer.

Not exactly sleek reindeer material, full-figured Mira took pride in her gift as a shifter. Usually a timid wallflower, Mira suddenly learns she’s Noah’s latest target and after a drunken night of unexpected passion, they find themselves in a quandary.

Can these two love-struck shifters play nice? Or will this little Reindeer Game require a little magic?

Adult Excerpt

His gravelly timbre sent shockwaves pulsating across her throbbing clit.

She sucked air through her teeth and pinched at her nipples, for no other reason than to remind herself she wasn’t dreaming.

“Tell me.” Her breathing quickened, matching the accelerated beat of her heart.

Noah laughed with what sounded like devilish intent. He ran his hand up her inner thigh and playfully cupped her crotch, pressing in a little harder along the slit until the lacy fabric grazed her sensitive nub.

Mira shuddered and chewed her bottom lip. Her fingers found the swirls of dark hair atop his head and when he hiked up her skirt and began kissing her inner thigh, her instincts kicked in and she urged him on. “Oh, yeah.”

“You like that?” His hungry growl made her tremble even more.

Mira moaned then slipped her hand down the front of her panties.

Noah groaned. “That’s it.” He grasped the fabric of her thong at her hips and tugged them down, a little rougher than necessary, which only excited Mira more.

Her middle finger invaded her seam and she quaked as her fingernail nicked her swollen clit.

Noah’s hot breath spilled across the delicate skin of her folds, followed by a stiffened flick of his tongue, competing with her fingers for the job.

Mira relented and moved her hand away, surrendering herself to his will.

Noah suckled her pussy and playfully teased her clit with the tip of his tongue.

She could hardly remain standing as her knees weakened.

He cupped the back of her legs, gripping her right below her ass, spreading her cheeks as his fingertips playfully invaded her from behind.

Mira gasped as he sucked harder and nibbled her now burning nub. “Fuck meee.” It was more of a sigh than a command, but Noah must have taken it at face value, because he slid his fingers inside her slickened channel then plunged deeper.

“Wait.” Mira eased around to the sofa with Noah following her every move while still on his knees. She sat down and scooted forward, allowing her ass to hang off the edge. Mira spread her legs wide, inviting him to pleasure her properly. “Now.” Where in the hell did this confidence come from?

“You are so fucking hot.” He roughly gripped her thighs, leaned in, and kissed her.

Her own salty essence flooded her tongue and she sucked his harder.

Noah chuckled deep. “Naughty little vixen.”

Mira laughed. “I think you’re a little confused. I’m Prancer, not Vixen.”

He sucked her left nipple. “Trust me. I know exactly who you are.” Noah nudged her back, settled between her legs, and spread her thighs even wider.

Mira looked down her body, past her plump curves, and watched intently as Noah’s mouth pleasured her. She splayed shaky fingers through his hair and encouraged him to suck harder.

He slid one finger inside her, then two, and pumped feverishly as he lapped away her cream. “So fucking sweet.”

Mira’s eyes rolled back. Overwhelmed by her climax, she bucked beneath his laboring mouth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Electricity zapped across her skin and skittered up her spine.

Noah grunted and sucked wildly as she exploded in his mouth.

Her body jerked and her vision dimmed. This was not at all how she’d expected her night to end.

New Release: Reindeer Games – Cupid

Yay – another release day! Yes, that’s right, my third book to come out this month (following A Taste of London and The Sweetest Revenge) is Reindeer Games: Cupid. It’s an erotic romance about Cassius Cupid, who just happens to be a shifter, and one of Santa’s reindeer. It’s part of the Reindeer Games series, which also contains books from my fellow Wickedly Sexy Writers.

Here’s the blurb:

As a postman by day, and one of Santa’s reindeer on a single very special night, Cassius Cupid eats, sleeps, and breathes deliveries. He doesn’t mind, but sometimes wishes that someone would send him something more exciting than bills and junk mail.

One cold January morning, Cassius gets his wish. A young woman arrives with a parcel. Turns out it’s for his housemate – but Cassius doesn’t care. All he’s interested in is Carina – the beautiful female courier.

Has Cupid finally met his match?

And an excerpt:

Chapter One

Cassius Cupid woke with a start, and then sat bolt upright in his bed. Shit, I’m going to be late! was his first thought.

Milliseconds later his brain switched on, and he remembered. He was on holiday. Flopping back onto the warm mattress and pillows with a contented sigh, he smiled. No work for fourteen whole days—it was going to be utter bliss. He stretched, relishing the feeling it created in his sleep-softened muscles. Ahhh…this is the life.

He knew he wouldn’t go back to sleep—hell, it was eight o’clock, which was practically the middle of the day for someone in his profession—so Cassius fell to thinking about how he was going to spend his day, not to mention the several others in front of him. God knew he deserved to relax and have some fun. He’d just emerged from the busiest part of his year, and he was more than ready to do some chilling out.

He enjoyed his job as a postman—he really did—but the Christmas period was a total killer. He idly wondered how many cards and presents he’d delivered over the past few weeks. It didn’t bear thinking about. Once you factored in the festive period itself, the weird few days between Christmas and New Year, and then the flurry of mail that got sent when everyone went back to work properly at the beginning of January, he’d racked up some serious deliveries. And that was before you even thought about his other job—which was for just one day a year, but was arguably more important than the other 364 put together.

Cassius—or Cupid, as he was known to his boss and colleagues in his second, but most important job—was not only a regular postman for the Royal Mail, but also a reindeer. For a single day of the year, Cassius had the supernatural power to transform into one of Santa’s faithful steeds and help pull that famous magical sleigh, delivering presents to excited children the world over.

Therefore, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Cassius really did eat, sleep and breathe deliveries, but not for the next fourteen days. All he planned to do was watch some TV, read some books, maybe go out hiking, meet some friends… basically anything that wasn’t delivering something to someone. Hey, he might even receive something through the post himself—preferably not the usual crap; bills and junk mail. He didn’t hold out much hope.

He lounged in bed for another ten minutes before realising he was lying there just for the sake of it. Being on holiday didn’t have to equal staying in bed all day—and certainly not for someone as active as him. He reached over to his bedside table, grabbed his glasses and put them on. Throwing off his thick duvet, he walked to his bedroom window and peeked out through the curtains, immediately glad of the effective central heating he and his housemate had forked out to have installed the previous year.

The outside world was covered in a thick layer of snow, and Cassius was mightily glad that he wasn’t out delivering letters and parcels. The stuff was treacherous enough without having to carry a heavy bag up and down driveways, paths, and pavements — most of which either hadn’t been cleared, or had been cleared badly, leaving incredibly slippery patches of ground for an unsuspecting postie to come across. God knows he’d gone down enough times, but, much to his relief, nobody had ever seen him do it. He’d always been relatively unharmed—excerpt for his pride, of course—and had been able to scramble back to his feet and carry on.

The eerie silence outside was broken by the rumble of an engine, and Cassius turned his head to look up the street—he lived in a cul-de-sac, so he knew that’s where the vehicle would come from—and watched as a delivery van made its way slowly and carefully down the road. He hoped the driver was sensible enough to try and steer over the thickest parts of the snow—the more people went over and over the same patches, packing it down, the more the road surface resembled an ice rink. And since the cul-de-sac was on a slight hill, it was easy enough to get stuck. He’d seen it so many times—even going outside one time last winter to suggest the driver go down to the bottom of the road, turn around and try reversing up the hill—an almost foolproof plan for vans with rear-wheel drive. He’d gotten a big thumbs-up for that suggestion as the driver finally got to the junction where the road became flat, and went on his merry way.

As the van drew closer to his house, he saw that the driver was a woman. That would explain her cautious driving—he’d never admit it to one of his drinking buddies, but women were far superior when it came to driving in adverse weather conditions. He even thought he’d seen some survey containing statistics that proved it.

Intrigued? See the book page to get your copy of Reindeer Games: Cupid, or add it to your Goodreads shelves.

New Release: Proving Santa Exists by Victoria Blisse

Here’s something very special for you all. My good buddy and fellow Northern Bird Victoria Blisse has a new release – Proving Santa Exists! And here are all the details, so you can heat up your Kindle in the run up to Christmas.

Proving Santa ExistsBlurb:

When Jonathan transfers from the U.S to the Manchester branch of Computers Inc., Jenny is the first person to make him feel at home. Finding out about his bleak Christmases as a boy, she makes up her mind to involve him in all her English Christmas traditions.

Passion sparks between the two as they decorate the Christmas tree. Who would have thought such an innocent activity could become so sexually charged? Can Jenny succeed in seducing the hot American and also prove to him that Santa really does exist?

* Includes the Full Seasonal Recipes for meals & snacks mentioned in the story.

Bag your copy: Amazon UK | Amazon US

*****

Excerpt:

“How are you enjoying your Christmas so far?” I ask, the film credits fading into the background.

“It’s been amazing,” Jonathan enthuses as his eyes meet mine, then a serious shadow darkens their flame. “Christmas was never anything special when I was a kid. We never had a tree. The home said it cost too much and it was a fire hazard.”

I tut and shake my head.

“The highlight was the Santa. We knew he wasn’t real, just a man dressed as Santa. He’d bring each of us a toy. I got a little car one year. I still have it.”

“How come you knew it wasn’t the real Father Christmas?”

“Because we knew there was no real Santa. They told us so all the time. They told us not to get our hopes up because Santa didn’t exist and wouldn’t bring us what we wanted on Christmas Eve.”

“What?” I’m outraged. I feel my blood boiling with the harsh cruelty of it. “Santa does exist.”

“You don’t believe that, do you?” He shakes his head, his eyes wide.

“Yes, yes I do.” I nod my head emphatically. “Maybe not in the way a child does, but I heartily believe in the spirit of Father Christmas. I believe in the meaning behind the make-believe. My faith is in the giving, which is the true centre of the festive season—the heart of it all. It’s all about making life better for other people and, through that, enhancing your own life. Santa definitely exists.”

Suddenly, those lips are on mine again, and his arms wrap around me. I feel his cheek against my skin. I feel moisture there: the trail of a tear. I close my eyes and kiss back, giving. I give him the softest, gentlest kiss I can. I want him to feel cherished. My heart throbs in pain at the harshness he’s suffered in his life. I want to smooth over all those rough edges; I want him to see what I mean about Father Christmas existing.

I pull him closer to me. My arms wrap tighter around him, and I stroke his back to offer comfort. Our lips, in contrast, are joined lustfully. With every small move, I feel my heart beat harder and faster. I become dizzy with the speed at which the blood is whizzing around my body, making every inch of me zing with the created friction and heat. His body presses me back against the sofa arm, twisting my own beneath him.

His lips leave mine and kiss a fizzing trail of pleasure down my neck to my collar bone. His hands rise from their position on my hips to slide under my loose-fitting red jumper and up higher to cup my breasts. The shock of his cool hands through the thin, lacy gauze is deliciously arousing. I groan my appreciation as his fingers dig into the cups and ease out the masses of abundant tit-flesh beneath. Pushing the wool of my jumper up with the tops of his wrists, his lips leave the soft flesh at the hollow of my neck.

Moments later, after my jumper is completely removed, their warm wetness encompasses my nipple, sending even more intense ripples of pleasure throughout my body. I feel him shift until he’s on his knees in front of me. One of my legs is still on the floor, the other is crossed in front of my pubis. I slip a hand between our bodies, running it under his shirt, feeling that soft, supple skin that I’ve only just glimpsed before. I follow the soft trail of hair down from his belly button to the top of his jeans. I feel more than hear the moan he emits from around my nipple as I pop open the brass button, then slide down the zipper.

I can’t believe I am being so forward, but as he doesn’t move to stop me, I yank his jeans and his boxers down to the middle of his thighs. My action emboldens him and he moves back, allowing me to spread my thighs around him. Jonathan strokes down to my legs and pulls up the full length of long, billowing skirt, his mouth still feasting on the white meat of my breasts. A hand of mine rubs through the wiry hair trailing down to his cock. When my flesh touches his, I melt. He’s hard and hot and very willing.

Bag your copy: Amazon UK | Amazon US

*****

Victoria BlisseVictoria Blisse is a mother, wife, Christian, Manchester United fan and award winning erotica author. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, Smut by the Sea and Smut in the City.

She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories.Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

Find out more at http://victoriablisse.co.uk or follow and friend Victoria: http://twitter.com/victoriablisse http://facebook.com/victoriablisse