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Tag Archives: sinful press

Out Now – The Story of Jo by Justine Elyot (@sinfulpress @JustineElyot)

The Story of JoI met a man called Emmett, and now I belong to him.

Bestselling UK author, Justine Elyot, is back with her latest erotica novel, The Story of Jo.

Due for release on October 1st 2018 by Sinful Press, The Story of Jo takes us on a whirlwind romance through the eyes of Jo, as she gives in to her submissive side under the loving tutelage of Emmett. But when Emmett’s friend and mentor appears on the scene, Jo has to decide if she’s willing to risk everything she has to become submissive to two masters.

Justine Elyot is the author of On Demand, The Business of Pleasure and Meeting Her Match. Her fiction has been published by Black Lace, Xcite, Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, and Mischief.

*****

Blurb:

Twenty-something Jo meets Emmett on a team-building course, and her initial disdain for him soon turns into attraction.

With Emmett’s strong but loving hand to guide her, Jo unleashes her inner submissive and they embark on an intense voyage of sexual discovery.

Their mutual fascination sees them exploring bondage, spanking, toys and more, and their romance is as perfect as Jo could hope for, until another man appears on the scene.

She knows that Emmett hero-worships his former boss and mentor, Charles, but when she finds out that Charles is the man who introduced Emmett to the art of domination, she has no idea how to feel.

With fierce desire growing between the three of them, can they find a way to explore this new dynamic without destroying what they already have?

*****

Excerpt:

“I want complete control of you in the bedroom,” he said.

The words shocked me to the core, and when I say ‘core’ I mean the area between my legs.

“Complete…control,” I repeated breathily.

“Within limits,” he amended. “Nothing that will damage or traumatise you, obviously. It’s for your pleasure as much as mine.” He laughed softly and ran a fingertip along my lips. “The look on your face…I’d like to photograph it.”

“Are you talking about, y’know, kinky stuff?”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You look shocked. Are you shocked?”

Was I?

“No,” I said. “I mean…no.”

“So you are that way inclined?” He raised an eyebrow.

“In theory,” I said. “I’ve read…things. But never done…things.”

“But you’d like to do…things?”

Could I admit that I’d dreamed of a man like Emmett, who would come and take possession of my body and my sexuality, relieving me of the irksome responsibility? I’d dreamed of a man who would be dominant yet sensitive, cruel but loving, with a resolutely filthy imagination.

Did he actually exist?

And did I have the courage to find out?

He pulled me in close again.

“Do you want me to take you in hand?” he asked, his voice low and sticky in my ear.

“God, yes,” I shivered.

“Mmm,” his appreciative response turned into a kiss, one of those long, slow, trembly types that only end when your legs start to give way. One hand slid slowly down my spine, moulding itself to the curve of my bottom and squeezing.

“You’re still dressed,” he accused, his mouth still close enough for his hot breath to whisper over my skin. Red wine, spearmint, salmon, a bitter coffee note further back.

“Sorry.”

He quieted me with another kiss, then set his fingers to work on my shirt.

The Story of Jo is available to buy from all major online retailers including:

Amazon: http://smarturl.it/TSoJKindle

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-story-of-jo

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/the-story-of-jo/id1420094618?mt=11

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-story-of-jo-justine-elyot/1128642055?ean=9781910908303

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

 

 

The Voyeur – Unlucky 13? A Guest Post by Kay Jaybee (@kay_jaybee @sinfulpress)

Many thanks for letting me visit your blog today to share a little of my physiological erotic ménage novel, The Voyeur. Newly, rereleased by Sinful Press, The Voyeur, is a dark, twisting, love story- but just who is in love with whom?

Wealthy businessman and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite S&M club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff. His Personal Assistant, Anya Grant, and his Housekeeper, Clara Hooper.

Upon the backs of his willing slaves, Mark has written out his fantasy list in thick red pen. Only Fantasy 12 awaits the tick of completion against their flesh before Mark’s ultimate fantasy – Fantasy 13- can take place.

But have the girls performed well enough to succeed in the final challenge? And what hold does the Bridge’s Gentleman’s Club, Anya’s previous employer, have over Mark? A place Anya was only too delighted to escape from.

In order to find out, Mark’s girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they’d left behind them all over again; and while they do, Mark will watch…

***

There is something about the number 13. Unlucky for some- but not for me. To me it’s always been a very lucky number. I was born on the thirteenth of the month; as were many other members of my family. If asked to pick a number at random; it will always be number 13. Far from being cursed, I’ve had a pretty charmed life; although the road has been undeniably rocky from time to time! For others however, 13 will always carry a darker side.

For Anya (PA) and Clara (Housekeeper), the employees of dedicated voyeur and business man ,Mark Parker, the number 13 means only one thing- the final fantasy on a list of ever more demanding erotic challenges.

Chapter One of The Voyeur dives straight into the action, describing the two-pronged, ultra BDSM fantasy, “number 12.”

Extract

Mark took a step closer to his PA. “Tonight,” he said, pulling off Anya’s shirt and bra, exposing her luscious chest to the cool of the room, “you will both face a combination of experiences that together make up Fantasy 12. Won’t it be lovely to be able to tick another task off our list, girls?”

They didn’t answer; experience had taught them that nine times out of ten their employer’s questions were rhetorical.

Mark twisted the women round; removing Clara’s top as he did so, so he could see both his employees’ bare backs. There, in neat script, a permanent pen had been used to write ‘Fantasy 1’, ‘Fantasy 2’ and so on, all the way down–the numbers following the length of their spines, finishing with the words ‘Fantasy 13’. The first eleven rows of black lettering had bright red ticks next to them.

“Only two more tasks left to go.”

This time the girls risked a fleeting glance at each other; exchanging a look of mutual blood-hammering exhilaration twinned with an erotic anticipation it would have been hypocritical to deny.

Mark, during his brief periods of leisure, had painstakingly detailed many lust-driven scenarios he wished to both direct and bring to life. He often wrote notes, accompanied by intricate diagrams of erotic, slightly disturbing, but ultimately satisfying fantasies, in a leather-bound journal that only he was allowed to read.

Anya and Clara knew that the final fantasy, when it came, would be more difficult and different to anything they’d ever previous experienced. They feared it.

They also longed for it.

Mark was a clever man, for as each new task unfolded he pushed his faithful staff along with him, darkening their desires and needs. Changing them so they slowly became closer and closer to his own. Making his girls as keen as he was to see how far they could go. To see how much they could physically take as they accompanied him on his journey of extreme sexual sightseeing.

A cold, clammy sheen of perspiration broke out on Anya’s face, arms, and breasts as Mark danced a finger across her skin. “You will both go to your room and change into the clothes I’ve placed upon your beds. You will remain there until I call you.” Mark pointed to the door, and his employees headed to their small, twin-bedded room without a sound.

As Anya considered some of the things she and Clara had been required to do over the last six months, she privately reassured herself that the trepidation shooting down her spine was understandable and acceptable. It was also irrational, for she knew that Fantasy 12 would not only be tolerable, but enjoyable; and that just because the end of the list was in sight, it didn’t mean the night ahead would involve anything worse than Mark had asked of them before. She could handle this. They both could–no problem.

Then Anya saw her outfit.

Her bed supported nothing but a leather dog collar.

Staring at the total lack of clothing, Anya almost conveyed her horror to Clara, but her lover stopped her with an urgent shake of the head. There was no privacy here, and they never knew if the webcams positioned in every room were switched on or not…

Both Anya and Clara begin to see the end of their six month long sexual adventure in sight- but then Mark announces that, before they can discover the contents of the ultimate challenge- Fantasy 13- they will have to re-enact some of the earlier tasks all over again.

If you’d like to discover how Anya and Clara came to work for Mark in the first place, and what other challenges they choose to endure, you can buy The Voyeur from all other good retailers, including-

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
GooglePlay

Bio

Kay Jaybee was named Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETO

Kay received an honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.

Kay Jaybee has over 180 erotica publications including, A Kink a Day- Book One (KJBooks, 2018), The Voyeur (Sinful Press, 2018), Knowing Her Place-Book 3: The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, (KJBooks, 2018),  The Retreat- Book2: The Perfect Submissive Trilogy (KJBooks, 2018), Making Him Wait (Sinful Press, 2018), The Fifth Floor- Book1;The Perfect Submissive Trilogy (KJBooks, 2017), Wednesday on Thursday, (KDP, 2017), The Collector (KDP, 2016), 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 –

Amazon – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Kay-Jaybee/e/B004O0S9GO/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1534155776&sr=1-1

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 and children’s picture books as Jenny Kane www.jennykane.co.uk and historical fiction as Jennifer Ash www.jenniferash.co.uk

Out Now – Secrets and Spies, Undercover Lovers: Book One by Ellie Barker (@sinfulpress @EllieBa3)

Secrets and SpiesReleased on May 18th 2018 from Sinful Press, Secrets and Spies is the new LGBT erotic crime novella by Ellie Barker, and is the first novella in the Undercover Lovers trilogy.

Starting life as Miss Blue Hair, a short piece from Sinful Press’s Sinful Pleasures anthology, Secrets and Spies follows the story of Nikolas, a bisexual police mole, and Sky, a transgender thief, as they work to infiltrate the local crime syndicate. Ellie Barker has created a fast paced and highly entertaining trilogy, with a diverse range of characters, various sexual encounters, and unconventional romance. In Bed with the Enemy and For Queen and Country, the remaining books in the trilogy, are due for release on June 15th and July 13th respectively.

Secrets and Spies is Amazon exclusive for a limited time before being released across all main platforms. It is available to read through Kindle Unlimited.

*****

Blurb:

When Nikolas Jinsen, police mole, meets an unusual woman named Sky, he thinks he’s just in for a night of pleasure. But he’s soon pulled into a world of mafia dealings, stolen documents, hacked computers and kidnappings – not to mention a woman with a taste for exhibition, a Queen who demands payment in pleasure, and Sky herself; unusual, intoxicating, and wanting more than Nikolas may be willing to give.

Secrets and Spies is transgender erotica at its best.

Book links:

Amazon: http://smarturl.it/SaSKindle

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/38487651-secrets-and-spies

*****

Excerpt:

She’d undressed, and I was admiring her from behind, enjoying the faint curve of her hips and her definitely gropeable buttocks…I might have tested that on the way home. But it was as she stepped back and raised her arms above her head, lifting her bright blue hair, that I realised I’d seen her before.

She’d had shorter hair, then, as black as night. She’d been dressed in practical trousers and a t-shirt, and carrying a bag full of tools; an electrician’s apprentice, fixing lights in an office building. They’d been in and out before anyone had realised some rather valuable documents had been copied and somehow removed from the building despite the security.

I’d idly wondered if the maintenance crew I’d walked past had been involved. After all, it wasn’t a dissimilar cover to one that I’d occasionally employed for jobs…

Sky. Thief, seductress, gambler and heartbreaker. This slim, dark-eyed thing in my bed was that legend.

Well, I can’t refuse a chance to fuck a legend. I’d just have to discuss her previous activities with her when we’d finished this business.

That train of thought came to a very nice conclusion as she turned to me, lifting her arms and stretching, taking my open mouth and caught breath as appreciation. “Lost for words?”

I managed a smile. “I’ve never been one for talking when I could express my appreciation in…other ways.”

She fitted perfectly across my hips, her strong legs pressing on my thighs. I felt her cock slide against my stomach, leaving a wet trail in contrast to the warmth of the smooth skin. Her mouth pressed onto mine as I pulled her closer, and we spent a while like that, chests pushed together and skin sliding as my hands explored her body and her tongue teased mine, her long fingers winding into my hair.

“All right, enough,” I said when it got too distracting, pushing her shoulders back a little to get some distance. “I want in you.”

*****

Author Bio:

Ellie mostly writes short’n’dirty flash fiction and short erotic fiction in any genre going. She prefers vampires over werewolves, and is always hot for a rainy night.

You can find out more about Ellie over at http://elliebarker.co.uk/, or follow her on Twitter as @EllieBa3

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

 

***

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Out Now—Making Him Wait by Kay Jaybee (@kay_jaybee @sinfulpress) #bdsmromance #erotica #eroticromance

Kay Jaybee’s popular BDSM-romance novel is back!

Re-released by the brilliant Sinful Press, Making Him Wait, is every bit as hot the second time around.

“Erotica on a canvas of bondage and discipline.”

It’s amazing where a drive to live out your fantasies, a paint brush, and a text message can lead you…

Making Him WaitBlurb

Maddie Templeton has always been an unconventional artist. Themes of submission and domination pulse through her erotic artwork, and she’s happily explored these lustful themes both on and off the canvas. But, when Theo Hunter enters her life, she is presented with a new challenge.

Maddie sets out to test his resolve as she teases, torments and toys with him. However, as Maddie drives Theo to breaking point, she soon becomes unsure whether her own resolve will hold out.

At the same time, Maddie must put on the exhibition of a lifetime. As the hottest gallery in town clamours for her best work, Maddie pushes her models harder and higher until they are physically, sexually and emotionally exhausted.

Will Maddie’s models continue to submit to her, or will she push them too far? And will she be ready for the exhibition in time? The only way to find out is to wait and see…and the waiting only makes it sweeter!

The extract I have chosen to share with you today comes from the very beginning of the book…

Freya rocked a little on her bare feet as Maddie touched her lightly freckled cheek. “No need to look so worried, honey. You are doing brilliantly. It’s a difficult pose to hold for so long.”

“Thank you.” Blushing an endearing shade of pink, Freya lowered the hands she’d nervously clenched before her, giving her employer another chance to see the neat triangle of her semi-shaved pussy.

Maddie, her jeans and t-shirt smeared and spattered with all the mediums of her trade, did not feel the need to mention to Freya that her own knickers were sodden, nor that beneath her holster bra, her nipples were rock hard.

A further buzz from her mobile alerted Maddie to the arrival of another text message. In fact a steady string of muffled noises from her mobile, coming from the pit of her handbag, had been announcing the arrival of texts every ten minutes or so throughout the morning.

Smiling to herself, Maddie continued to disregard her phone and considered the exquisite outline of her companion’s porcelain frame. Most people came to Maddie to be drawn or painted, sometimes as a commission for a lover, husband or wife. Some, however, like Freya, came to the studio as a way of improving their self-confidence. Despite her generally shy demeanour, Freya had proved to be very good at posing as Maddie required and the artist had offered her an occasional job as a life model.

Sometimes Maddie felt she was more therapist than artist – specifically a sex therapist – as men and women alike shared their most intimate secrets while standing on the other side of her easel. Maddie’s studio certainly had the air of an erotic fantasy confessional about it. She wasn’t complaining, however. No other life would do for her now. The job satisfaction Maddie achieved from listening to the dreams and fantasies of others while she recreated them onto canvas, went hand in glove with the personal physical gratification it gave her.

Money being either plentiful or non-existent, depending on the current success of her commissions and sales, Maddie had been forced to develop an alternative form of payment for her models – a reward system for good work. Maddie could tell from the rise and fall of Freya’s chest and the glistening damp skin at the top of her thighs, that she was more than ready to be paid for today’s session.

Closing in on her model, Maddie simultaneously cupped Freya’s slick pussy and left breast with her charcoal-blackened hands, causing an involuntary shiver to ripple through the younger woman’s body.

“Your progress really is outstanding, honey. Few of my models can stay as motionless as you can.” Congratulating Freya on her skill, Maddie left two dark palm prints on the girl’s tits and tapped at the inside of her legs. “Open up. I think you have deserved a treat after all your hard work.”

Gliding her palm over Freya’s mound, Maddie slipped a gentle finger into the slippery canal of the model’s frantically clutching sex, enjoying the murmured mew of contentment that escaped from her lipstick-free mouth.

Pumping gently, the artist brought Freya close to orgasm with steady increases and decreases of pressure – her own mind straying to her mobile. Maddie wondered where Theo was and what he was doing. She knew what he was thinking about. She always knew that. Theo thought about her…

Praise for Making Him Wait-

“Making Him Wait” held me captive, made me blush, had me yearning for more before I was even ready to let the previous chapter go. The story unfolds dripping with eroticism, every character wantonly submitting to Maddie’s artistic, commanding eye… Erotica’s “Queen of Kink” has nailed the freedom of Kink, fearlessly. Kay Jaybee writes with a masterful insight and sucks her readers into the fascinating domain of domination and submission. A realm where one’s words must be listened to very carefully and choices are empowering.’ Rose Caraway.

Artist, lover, dominatrix, Maddie has sculpted from her surroundings the perfect life and Kay Jaybee in ‘Making Him Wait’ the picture-perfect set up for an unhurried, well-written, hugely entertaining, multi-media journey into classy erotica – men, women, whatever your fancy, Mistress Jaybee guides you through her Chinese puzzle of a plot in a way that stole my breath and made my underarms tingle…Mesmerising, thrilling, word perfect, a triumph.” Chloe Thurlow

If you would like to buy Making Him Wait, it is available as a paperback or e-book from all good retailers, including-

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/makinghimwaitkjb

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/making-him-wait-kay-jaybee/1127821931?ean=9781910908228

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/making-him-wait/id1336576037?mt=11

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/making-him-wait-4

Bio

Kay Jaybee has over 150 publications to her name, including the novels Making Him Wait, (Sinful Press, second edition, 2018), and The Fifth Floor – The Perfect Submissive Book One (KJ Books, third edition, 2017). She has also written the novellas Wednesday on Thursday (KJ Books, 2017), Take Control (1001Nights Press, 2014), Digging Deep, (Xcite Press, 20153), A Sticky Situation (Xcite Press, 2013), and Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With A Delivery Man (1001 Nights Press, 2014). She has written the anthologies The Collector (KJBooks, 2016), and A Kink a Day Books 1-3 (available via the Radish reading app).

Details of Kay’s work, past, present and future can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk

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 and children’s picture books as Jenny Kane www.jennykane.co.uk  and historical fiction as Jennifer Ash www.jenniferash.co.uk

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

Out Now – The Prison of the Angels, the Final Book of the Watchers by Janine Ashbless (@sinfulpress)

When there’s a war in Heaven, on which side will you stand?

The Prison of the Angels is the new paranormal erotic romance by Janine Ashbless, and is the final novel in the Book of the Watchers trilogy.

“I thought I was a good girl. I thought that no matter what others did for my sake, I could stay innocent. I thought that as long as I acted out of love, I’d be blameless.

I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

Janine Ashbless is back with the third and final instalment of her Book of the Watchers trilogy, The Prison of the Angels. Unafraid to tackle the more complex issues surrounding good and evil in mainstream religion, Janine has created a thought-provoking and immersive trilogy which sets a new standard for paranormal erotic romance. The first in the series, Cover Him With Darkness, was released in 2014 by Cleis Press and received outstanding reviews. It was followed in March 2017 by In Bonds of the Earth, and finally The Prison of the Angels on 1st December 2017, both published by Sinful Press.

*****

Blurb:

Milja Petak’s world has fallen apart.

Her lover, the fallen angel Azazel, has cast her aside in rage and disgust. The other contender for her heart, the Catholic priest Egan Kansky, was surrendered back into the hands of the shadowy Vatican organization, Vidimus, after sustaining life-threatening injuries.

She has killed and she has betrayed. She is alone, homeless, and at the end of her tether – torn apart by guilt and the love she has lost.

But neither Heaven nor its terrifying representatives on Earth have finished with Milja.

Both her lovers need her in order to further their very different plans, and both passionately need her, though they may try to deny it.

Milja is once again forced into a series of choices as she uncovers the secrets Heaven has been guarding for centuries. But this time it is not just her heart at stake, or even the fate of a fallen angel.

This time, the choices she makes will change everything.

This time it’s the End of the World.

The Prison of the Angels is the third in the acclaimed Book of the Watchers trilogy, following on from Cover Him with Darkness, and In Bonds of the Earth.

*****

Excerpt:

The cold water flashed like white fire over every inch of my skin. It burnt my eyeballs and my lips and the inside of my throat, and beyond the white fire was a darkness so immense that it swallowed me whole.

I fell forever.

Something grabbed my wrist. Something so hot that it boiled away the darkness, so that there was suddenly light flashing in my eyes. I felt myself grabbed up bodily and lifted. I felt heat against my lips, blowing fire into my frozen lungs. I saw the wooden posts of a flight of steps, and then I pitched forward onto hands and knees in the shallow snow, choking up pond-water. In front of my blurred vision an inchoate swirl of darkness poured up the steps onto the lit porch and then disappeared. Unseen, something slammed against the door, a knock that made the house shake.

I was on the ground beneath the back porch of John’s house, I realized, shuddering.

Mama. Oh Mama. The thought seemed to come from nowhere.

Three times the knock sounded, and on the third the door burst open—outward, onto the porch—to reveal Egan in the lit room within; shaven, shirtless, and frozen mid-lunge for what I could only assume was a weapon of some sort.

He stared.

I tried to cry out.

“Milja?”

Grabbing his pistol he ran out barefoot onto the porch and looked around for enemies that were not there. Then he clattered down and pulled me up into his arms. I pressed my face to his neck and he carried me up the steps and over the threshold—not like a bride, but like a child he could hold tight against his torso, his wrists locked under my thighs. His skin blazed against mine. He hefted me into the kitchen and propped my ass on the table in front of the range.

“What the hell?” he demanded in a low fierce voice, sweeping locks of sodden hair back from my face. My hat seemed to have disappeared. “What happened, Milja? What were you doing out there?”

“Ice. I fell in the lake.” My jaw chattered. It was obvious I was telling the truth—I was soaked from head to toe, and after clasping me so close he wasn’t much drier himself.

“Feckssake, woman!” he growled. “What the hell were you thinking of?” He shucked off my coat, which lifted a sodden ton from my shoulders, then stooped to pull my boots off; ice-water spilt all over the floor.

I tried to strip off my gloves but my fingers weren’t capable of gripping anything.

“Come here, come here,” he said softly from where he knelt at my feet, grabbing my wrists and peeling away the useless gloves. He pressed my hands on either side of his warm neck, holding them there. They must have felt like ice-blocks to him, but he didn’t wince.

He looked like a knight kneeling before his queen, I thought. I could feel his pulse.

“I’ll go get towels, Milja. Are you going to be okay a sec?”

I nodded, though he probably couldn’t see it through the shuddering. He rose and hurried off, leaving me with the radiant warmth of the stove. I thought I should probably get the rest of my clothes off, but even after I struggled with my fly zipper my jeans seemed determined to cling to my bum-cheeks.

I heard the back door bang shut and I flinched.

Azazel?

Had he been gathering himself to come get Egan? Was he the one who had saved me from the black waters? Where was he now?

Egan came back in carrying armfuls of towels. “Alright?”

“I’m okay,” I told him, smiling through my shudders. He was still shirtless, and I could see the faint Ethiopian scars on his arm and chest.

He wrapped my hands one at a time in a towel, chaffed them dry, and then set them deliberately against the hard, hot wall of his torso.

Oh God.

Then he slipped all the buttons on my thick flannel shirt—the one I’d chosen this morning precisely because it wasn’t provocative or distracting—and he only slowed when he realized I was wearing just a bra-top underneath. My nipples stood in shamefully hard points under the stretch cotton. I tried to wriggle out of the long tartan sleeves of my shirt on my own, to spare his blushes, but everything clung like a freezing cold second skin and he had to help.

The shallow slash on my forearm wasn’t bleeding anymore, but each brush of his fingers felt like hot coals.

My wet garment made a slap as it struck the floor.

He draped a towel around my shoulders and another over my head. He started rubbing the water from my face and hair and scalp, his movements precise and gentle. For long moments I was buried in a soft darkness. I reached out, blind, to put my hands back on his bare ribs. I could feel his heart pounding beneath them, like a beast pacing a cage.

I have no idea when it all changed for him. When his grueling self-denial simply fell apart, like a garment worn and washed until the fabric was weakened beyond all use. All I knew was that he dropped the towel off my damp head, cupped my face in both his hands and—absolutely without warning—kissed me.

The Prison of the Angels is available to buy from all major online retailers including:

Amazon: http://smarturl.it/TPotAKindle

Kobo: http://smarturl.it/TPotAKobo

iTunes: http://smarturl.it/TPotAiTunes

Google Play: http://smarturl.it/TPotAGoogle

Barnes and Noble: http://smarturl.it/TPotABarnesandNoble

*****

Author bio:

Janine Ashbless is a writer of fantasy erotica and steamy romantic adventure. She likes to write about magic and myth and mystery, dangerous power dynamics, borderline terror, and the not-quite-human.

Buyer beware! If you like dark romance and a hard-won Happily Ever After, try “Cover Him with Darkness,” “Heart of Flame,” or “The King’s Viper.” If you prefer challenging erotica, go for “Red Grow the Roses” or “Named and Shamed” instead. All her other books lie somewhere on the spectrum between.

Janine has been seeing her books in print ever since 2000. She’s also had numerous short stories published by Black Lace, Nexus, Cleis Press, Ravenous Romance, Harlequin Spice, Storm Moon, Xcite, Mischief Books, and Ellora’s Cave among others. She is co-editor of the nerd erotica anthology ‘Geek Love’.

Born in Wales, Janine now lives in the North of England with her husband and two rescued greyhounds. She has worked as a cleaner, library assistant, computer programmer, local government tree officer, and – for five years of muddy feet and shouting – as a full-time costumed Viking. Janine loves goatee beards, ancient ruins, minotaurs, trees, mummies, having her cake and eating it, and holidaying in countries with really bad public sewerage.

Her work has been described as:

“Hardcore and literate” (Madeline Moore) and “Vivid and tempestuous and dangerous, and bursting with sacrifice, death and love.” (Portia Da Costa)

Author Links:

Janine Ashbless website: http://www.janineashbless.com/

Janine Ashbless on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/janineashbless

Sinful Press website: https://www.sinfulpress.co.uk

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

Why Greenhouses are Sexy by Jo Henny Wolf (@JoHennyWolf @sinfulpress)

When I started writing The Black Orchid, appearing in the Sinful Pleasures Anthology coming out on August 20th, the only thing I knew was that I wanted to set it in a greenhouse.

There’s just something so alluring about gardening. A gardener has a deep connection with the earth, and growing things requires a certain amount of magic (I know, because I have none of that; thumbs as black as charcoal, that’s me). As a gardener, you spend your days with your hands buried in soil, covered in dirt. Stepping into a greenhouse is like entering another realm. The air is thick with humidity, green with the fragrance of plants and soil. I love that smell, the earthiness of it.

A greenhouse is a place so brimming with life that it feels perfect to have it as the setting for an act that worships life. And that’s how Baines’ Orchid Conservatory was born: a Victorian era greenhouse housing not only a veritable jungle and filled with rare orchids, but also an ecosystem of insects, pollinators, pests, and predators. I just had to get my characters in there.

I’m a very visual planner, and most of my stories start with an image forming in my mind. Fingertips grazing the line of a jaw, lips brushing the inside of a knee, a rumpled man in a suit kneeling in the murky light of a greenhouse, his cheek streaked with dirt. There is something delicious about the idea of a man in a suit, whose pristine elegance has suffered from a passionate encounter.

I’m also drawn to strange and twisted stories, to fairytales with hearts of darkness and rotting teeth, so, amidst all the green, I could see tokens of death. Sex reminds us of our mortality as we celebrate life; it reminds us of loss as we lose ourselves to ecstasy. That’s the other side of gardening: in the constant renewal of life, decay is forever lurking close to it.

Consequently, my characters couldn’t be just gardeners and orchid collectors. They had to reflect the duality of life and death, the conflict and suspense arising from the decay within the ripeness of life.

For this reason, Donn Black is a bringer of death, a king of the underworld. He is a meticulous man with great attention to detail, and he has to be in his line of work as a contract killer. He detests chaos, so when he meets Poppy Baines, the first thing he notices about her is the chaos that clings to her. He doesn’t know that she’s more than the harmless gardener she presents to the world, so when he finds himself pulled into a sexy game for a rare orchid, he doesn’t resist. The game is about more than just a black orchid, however, and bizarre flower mantises, butterflies, and beetles aren’t the only creatures poised to feast on death in this gothic greenhouse.

Neither Donn nor Poppy are vulnerable or redeemable characters, and that’s part of their intrigue for me. Donn is a killer with structure, someone who knows who he is and is comfortable with that. Poppy, on the other hand, is passionate and takes what she wants, even if it’s a stranger in a suit asking for a black orchid.

I find myself perpetually drawn to stories of imperfect characters, of humans finding themselves in impossible situations and not always making the right choices. After publishing Salt, my erotic retelling of the fairytale “Love like Salt,” late last year, my next project has been to work on a retelling of “The She-Wolf”, a short Croatian fairytale with an animal bride and a lot of issues – which is why it fascinates me so much. Until this story is done, however, I am continuing to publish short stories in between. You can find out more about my stories over at my website.

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Excerpt of “The Black Orchid”

Sinful Pleasures

Poppy smirked, with a sparkle in her eyes that made him feel transparent and naked. He stuck a finger into his shirt collar to get some air onto his heated skin. It was entirely too hot in this hellhole of a greenhouse.

“Maybe you should take off your coat before you collapse,” she prompted gently. Donn’s cheekbones burned right through his skin as he followed her suggestion and shrugged out of his coat, folding it and depositing it out of the way on an empty rack attached to the table, while she plucked another black orchid from her tree shelf. She placed it side by side with the first plant. “Mostly, I just split them into clones, since I have already reached perfection with this breed. I used to pollinate though, to get this dark black.”

She waved him closer, and Donn followed her order. It was like a reward when she placed her hand on his arm, and another jolt of electricity tingled through him, sizzling hot in his lower belly. The heaviness in his groin increased.

“Give me one of the toothpicks from over there, please,” she murmured, leaning closer, and Donn sucked in air like a drowning man who’d broken through the water. His lungs only filled with more of the orchid’s earthy fragrance. As he reached for the toothpicks she had indicated, his head was swimming, as if the orchids had wrapped their roots around him like mangroves to pull him under again. His hand, so steady usually, shook. Poppy let her fingers slide along his much longer than necessary when she took the toothpick he offered. He wished she would touch him even longer.

“Alright. Do you see this little thing at the centre of the flower?” Poppy pointed the tip of the toothpick at a black blossom, and Donn bent down to look at it closely. “That’s the column. You have to insert the toothpick here, carefully…” She demonstrated it to him, but Donn had a hard time concentrating. “You have to push the tip into the stigma to get it sticky, then pull it out along the anther cap…here. Do you see those little yellow dots? They’re called pollinia. The gonads, basically.” She pulled the toothpick out of the column and showed him two tiny yellow blobs sticking to it. “Now comes the fun part.” With a grin, she moved to the second plant.

Donn swallowed. Poppy’s voice turned throatier with every word, softer, and he leaned closer so he wouldn’t miss a single syllable. “This time, you want to get the pollinia to stick to the stigma. So you gently—gently—push your pick into the column, all the way to the back…and there you deposit your load.” The toothpick came out clean, and she turned her face to smile at him. Her breath tickled against his cheek, warm and damp. Squeezing his eyes shut, Donn tried to get rid of the images of Poppy on her knees, her mouth hot and wet as she sucked his cock into her throat.

“Do you want to try it?” she asked, and Donn wasn’t sure if she meant pollinating an orchid or fucking her throat. The answer was the same for both.

“Absolutely.”

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Sinful PleasuresBlurb:

Sinful Press welcomes you to lose yourself in Sinful Pleasures.

Join us as we weave our way from mainstream erotic romance to surreal sex-filled dreamscapes and everything in between, created by some of the best new and established voices in the erotica genre.

Janine Ashbless, Ella Scandal, Sonni de Soto, Jo Henny Wolf, Lily Harlem, Lady Divine, Gail Williams, Samantha MacLeod, Tony Fyler, Ellie Barker, Lisa McCarthy

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Author Bio:

Jo Henny Wolf lives with her husband and two daughters in the idyllic Rhine Valley in one of the warmest places of Germany. She spent her childhood roaming the woods of the Black Forest, steeped deeply in myth and folklore and ingrained superstition, where her love for fairytales was nurtured and cemented.

She holds a B.A. in German Language and Literature as well as Scandinavian Language and Literature. Tracing intertextual influences is like a treasure hunt and a fascinating puzzle to her, but it’s not as fulfilling as writing her own stories, accompanying her heroines and heroes through adventures full of magic, love and melancholy, and lots of steamy sex. She writes Romance novels as J. H. Wolf.

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