Yesterday I visited the local state park. Waterlilies filled one of the ponds and I spent some time taking pictures before I set out hiking.

I didn’t have a lot of time, so I decided to do a familiar, short trail. To shake things up, though, I started from the point at which I usually finish.

And the experience was entirely different. For instance, I was astonished to notice this boulder with a tree growing out of it:

How had I not seen this before, when I must have passed this spot a hundred times going the other way?

Easy, as it turns out. Going my usual route, you couldn’t see where the boulder was split. It looked like the tree was simply behind the rock, and it was easy to be distracted by the lichen all over the easily visible side, and the larger tree in front of the boulder.

This got me thinking about point of view and how important it is to storytelling. (What, you don’t find yourself thinking about the craft of writing while out for a walk in the woods? You’re weird! Okay, maybe I’m weird.) Different characters are going to see things from slightly different angles, and so are going to focus on different things. Often when a scene feels off-kilter, it’s because I’m telling it from the wrong point of view; the character I’ve chosen isn’t inclined to notice the aspect of the scene I need revealed.

Which leads to another point. While I was pondering fresh angles and the fine art of choosing points of view, I managed to take a wrong turn. Yes, I should have known the trails better than that, but I wasn’t paying attention because I thought I knew where I was going. (This can apply to storytelling as well. Maybe everything does if you look at it the right way.) Since I was in a familiar park, I realized my error and got back to the trailhead easily enough, but by an unplanned, slightly longer route. It wasn’t all bad, though. The light was perfect for photography.

Sometimes choosing the “wrong” trail or point of view will still get you where you need to go, and perhaps lead to something you might have otherwise missed, such as the sun hitting a familiar pond so it looks fresh and new.

Or maybe you’ll get thoroughly lots and spend a lot of time trudging around in frustration and mild panic. Finally you’ll have to retrace your footsteps to figure out where you went wrong and get back on the right trail or in in the right character’s head. I’ve certainly had those hikes–and those scenes! The challenge, in both hiking and writing, is judging when to forge ahead in the unanticipated direction and when to turn back.

BLURB

Rowena Campbell has always been the naughty twin.  After the Viking Raid and her worst walk of shame ever, she recognized that she was misusing sex.  In therapy for her sexual addiction, three months celibate, Rowena is better than fine, with a successful erotic blog and book deal by her alter ego, ginger-wigged Regina Wright.  When Scottish billionaire Micheil MacDonald wants Regina at his brother’s birthday party, she agrees to attend three scenes as an observer only.  A triple play in Imperial Rome, Prohibition Chicago, and Lewis Carroll’s Wonderland, no kink, no sex – and no lies, per his terms, with half a million dollars riding on the line.  Surely she can manage that?

Micheil MacDonald is a widower with a child recovering from the fatal accident that claimed his wife.  He sweeps into Rowena’s life like a force of nature, brushing aside her protests, determined to be the exception to her rules.  But Rowena has scars that no one can see.  Secrets that have never been shared – not even with her twin.  Telling the truth was never supposed to be this hard.

This story touches on the subject of child abuse and may contain triggers.  It is written for ages 18+.

REPLAY BOOK 2: TRIPLE PLAY by Nia Farrell

Length 20,232 words / 100 pages

Amazon e-book http://mybook.to/RB2

Amazon paperback http://mybook.to/RB2p

Teasers and Excerpt http://bit.ly/2b08nqY

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31508583-replay-book-2

Reviews:

“If you like your kink with period reenactment, then you may enjoy Farrell’s Replay series. While Rowena’s twin starred in Book 1’s Viking Raid, this second book features Rowena the naughty twin. Rowena can be a brat, especially since she can don on different identities and chance upon the handsome Dom in question (Micheil, in this case) in the least expected places. Her quirky attitude is endearing and had me turning the pages. Since the loss of his wife, Micheil is finally in a good place and ready for Rowena by the time she appears. Great storyline. Captivating read. Highly recommended.”

“If you like your novellas with a good story, really really hot sex and a Dom with an brogue I sometimes had a hard time understanding, but when I listened to him in my head it was a bit easier, then you will want to read this book!! Rowena, who actually has three identities (the vixen and author too) meets a Dom she has a hard time saying no to and the story unfolds, and what a story it is!! Rowena has recovered from the Viking Raid and isn’t looking for anymore “play” but Micheil has other plans. That’s all I’m going to divulge so if you want to know more then I recommend you buy this book. But don’t read it outside or in front of anyone like I did. You will want to be all by yourself to experience it all, or maybe with someone else, that’s up to you!! Enjoy!!!”

EXCERPT:

“Why me?”

One corner of his mouth curved upwards.  “Yer book,” he said.  “I wanted tae meet ye and was willing tae pay for the privilege.”

“Um.  Thank you.  I think.”  She wondered if he had a sub who’d benefitted from the experiences and research that she shared online.  She had let her followers know that a book was coming, had kept them updated on her progress.  The manuscript was done, but only her publisher had seen it.

Micheil dipped his head at the Replay owner, who was ordering punishment for a slave girl.  “St. Leger told me that ye command a hefty appearance fee.  My offer was purely a guess.  Since ye agreed tae the terms, I take it that the contract met yer expectations.”

“Yes,” she said simply, following his gaze when it failed to return.  The slave was stripped and bound to a column.  Tiberius Piers snapped his fingers and a tray of floggers appeared.  He picked one of softest leather and introduced her to it, stroking her sides, rubbing her back, tracing her cheek, then stepping back and laying on the first set of stripes.

Rowena clamped her thighs together, cursing her traitorous body, feeling the creamy moisture between her legs.

He must have heard her breath catch.  “Ye like it.”

“Yes.”

“Do ye wish it for yerself?”

“Yes,” she breathed.  “And no.”

His blue eyes considered her, a lambency in their depths that she could not fail to recognize.  “Explain.”

“I wish it were me,” she admitted, “but not with Piers.”

Don’t make me say it.  Don’t.

He stepped closer, not touching except for the breath that fanned her hair and bathed her in his heat.  “If not St. Leger, lass, with whom?”

“You, Sir.”  Her voice was the barest whisper.  “But we can’t.  I can’t.”

The Dom came out, full force, and he was not happy.  “Why not?” he rumbled, his voice rolling like thunder while his eyes sparked St. Elmo’s fire.

“The contract?”  She lowered her gaze, fighting the urge to drop to her knees in a submissive’s pose.

He blew out harshly.  “And if I said, damn the contract.  Tear it up and I’ll give ye half a million anyway?”

Her chin came up as she threw her head back far enough to meet his gaze.  Humorless.  Not even a hint of irony.

“You’d do that?” she asked.  “Seriously?  For one night of play without sex?  Remember, my rule is one time.  You punish me tonight, and you won’t touch me for the rest of the weekend.”  Why was that so hard to say?  Damn him.  Damn her body, begging her to reconsider.

He smiled darkly.  “Make an exception,” he said.  “Ye tried tae top me in the bookstore.  Ye knew exactly what ye’d done and pretended ye did nae understand.  For that alone, ye need a spanking.  Two spankings.  I should be the one tae give them.  It’s only fair.”

If she wore panties, they’d be sopping wet.  The Vestal Virgin was yearning for the path to ruination.

“It would be fair,” she agreed, “but it can also wait.  I gave my word.  Three nights.  No kink.  No sex.  I’m not a liar.  Don’t try to make me one.”

“Exceptions tae the rule,” he reminded her.  “Ye said ye’d observe the scenes.  Nothing was said aboot wha’ happens outside them.  When the play winds down and they shuffle us out in the wee hours of the morning, what happens next is up tae us, aye?”

Tempting.  My god, he was so tempting.

And he was right.  Outside Replay, anything goes.  Except…

“Then we’re back to one time.  Once.  No repeats.  Is that what you want?”

She thought she sounded unshakeable.  He smiled as if she’d just agreed to his terms.  “I want tae feel that fine arse of yers under my hand.  Forget yer rules.  Do what’s right.”

His voice had dropped to a rumble that pushed every button she had.  She whimpered, as if she could already feel herself bent over his lap, panties around her knees, his large hand exploring the landscape of her posterior as he familiarized himself with the terrain, deciding how he wanted to change it for his pleasure.

“I could tie ye up.  Ye’d be beautiful, bound tae my bed.  I might just have tae keep ye there.”

“Once,” she said weakly.

“Lass,” he murmured, his Scottish burr thickening.  “Ye ken ye owe me times three.  Once for trying tae top me.  Once for playing innocent aboot it.  Once for nae letting me ken who ye were.  We have three nights of scenes tae get through.  I’ll give ye time tae consider yer sins against me.  At the end of each night, ye will present yerself tae me.  Ye will submit.  Ye will suffer, but I’ll give ye what you need.  Three punishments and aftercare.  I promise ye, I am verra good at both.”

Bio: Nia Farrell is one of Mr. Blackthorne’s Wicked Pen Writers and a multi-genre author who is published in nonfiction, poetry, music, articles, and children’s books, with one documentary screenplay under her literary belt.  She’s an old soul and a period reenactor who’s been into corsets for centuries, although she wears them more to Civil War events these days.

Nia has been involved in the metaphysical community for over twenty-five years.  She is a Reiki Master and crystal healer whose work encompasses this and other lifetimes.  In her book Something More, a 2016 Golden Flogger Awards Finalist, BDSM and submission are tools for healing post-rape PTSD, earning a nomination for Best BDSM Book of the Year, Ménage Category.

Her debut books from The Three Graces Series, Something More, Something Different, and Something More, have been called new age erotic romance – kink with a paranormal twist. Soul mates, reincarnation, karmic fallout, shamanism, and psychic abilities come into play. Personal experience and extensive research go into crafting her characters, but it’s her sense of whimsy that has made fictional Posey, Minnesota, the ménage capital of the United States with a Monty-Python-themed diner that’s central to the plotlines.

Nia was fortunate enough to meet her soul mate early on. She married her high school sweetheart, raised two children, and began writing at her husband’s suggestion. She has been published in erotic romance since 2015.

ONTACT INFORMATION AND LINKS:

Nia Farrell’s webpage http://niafarrell.wordpress.com

Nia Farrell’s newsletter signup http://eepurl.com/b1PtzD

Nia Farrell’s Amazon author page http://viewauthor.at/NiaFarrell

Nia Farrell’s Facebook author page https://www.facebook.com/?q=#/pages/Author-Nia-Farrell/1678898589004941

Nia Farrell’s Goodreads author page http://goodreads.com/Nia_Farrell

Nia Farrell’s Dark Hollows Press author page http://www.darkhollowspress.com/#!nia-farrell/c1mop

Farrell’s Foxes—Nia Farrell’s Street Team page https://www.facebook.com/farrellsfoxes

Author Nia Farrell on Tumblr http://authorniafarrell.tumblr.com

Author Nia Farrell on Twitter https://twitter.com/AuthrNiaFarrell

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Author Nia Farrell on Google+https://plus.google.com/+NiaFarrellAuthor

Author Nia Farrell on tsū http://www.tsu.co/AuthorNiaFarrell

Nia Farrell Titles:

The Three Graces Series

SOMETHING ELSE August 25, 2015 e-book  http://myBook.to/TG1 or  https://www.amzn.com/dp/B014FV1TUE

SOMETHING DIFFERENT September 29, 2015 e-book http://myBook.to/TG2 or https://www.amzn.com/dp/B015Y9JEHG

SOMETHING MORE October 15, 2015 e-book http://myBook.to/TG3 or https://www.amzn.com/dp/B016OULX8C

THE THREE GRACES TRILOGY paperback April 2, 2016 http://myBook.to/TGr or https://www.amzn.com/dp/1530858194

SOMETHING SPECIAL May 5, 2016 ebook http://myBook.to/TG6 or https://www.amzn.com/dp/B01F6FOQ0S; paperback http://myBook.to/TG6p or https://www.amzn.com/dp/1533146217

 DARK MOONS RISING e-book March 10, 2016 http://myBook.to/DMR or https://www.amzn.com/dp/B01CRX1O70; paperback April 2, 2016 http://myBook.to/DMRp or https://www.amzn.com/dp/1530828759

REPLAY BOOK 1: VIKING RAID July 1, 2016 ebook http://mybook.to/RB1; paperback http://mybook.to/RB1p

AS WICKED AS YOU WANT (Forever Ours Book 1) August 1, 2016 ebook http://mybook.to/FO1

By Nia Farrell and Jane Austen

PRIDE AND PUNISHMENT—AN EROTIC RETELLING OF JANE AUSTEN’S BELOVED CLASSIC June 1, 2016 ebook http://myBook.to/Punish or https://www.amzn.com/dp/B01FJ612HY; paperback http://myBook.to/Punishp or https://www.amzn.com/dp/1533228477; Large Print https://www.amazon.com/dp/1533235244 or http://myBook.to/Punishlg

Upcoming releases:

RIDE THE WIND (w/a Erinn Ellender Quinn) October 1, 2016

REPLAY BOOK 3: HONOUR BOUND November 1, 2016

TOUCH THE WIND (w/a Erinn Ellender Quinn) December 1, 2016

This week’s My Sexy Saturday theme is supposed to involve a date, but my new release, Buck, Naked (Chronicles of the Malcolm 3), doesn’t involve any actual dates. This is a science fiction romance, and Buck and Aleema have a nasty common enemy who’d like nothing better than to capture Aleema and eliminate the entire crew of the Malcolm in one blaze of bloody glory. As a result, Buck and Aleema’s “dates” involve frantic pursuits, outer-space evasive maneuvers, and stylish shooting.

Yet somehow they manage to steal a few minutes for romance–until the bad guys catch up, that is.

“The back of a stolen cargo flyer isn’t where I’d have picked for my first sexytimes in a star’s age.” Aleema’s usually husky voice was breathy, and her words came out all floaty, as if they weren’t affected by gravity. “But it’s getting mighty appealing….”

“At least there are flowers. Well, petals, anyway. That’s romantic, right?” There was something about it in one of Rita’s books. Buck had thought it sounded silly and messy, but then Rita and Drax had given each other one of those looks and he’d gotten the feeling that they had a story or two involving flower petals, maybe those Vicarian lilies Drax was always buying for her.

“It’ll do.” Aleema’s voice was husky, urgent, and so were her hands on his body.

Just then, the ’bot pilot began to bleat a proximity alarm. It was a ’bot programmed to fly a vessel in a busy urban air-space. It should able to handle a potential collision, right? But the instinct to protect was too strong. Buck reluctantly tore himself away to check out what was going on, noting Aleema was moving with him, not even bothering to deal with her missing shirt until the problem was solved.

He looked at the instrument panel, then out the flyer’s viewscreen.

Oh marling stars. He was looking right into a gun port.

Blurb:

To save him, she must strip him bare.
Security expert Buck’s senses are inhumanly keen, to the point he can see through time and space, and that’s just the start of his odd abilities—thank you, alien captors. He also experiences paranoia, flashbacks, and the occasional hallucination—thank you, PTSD. No wonder he fears he could hurt one of the Malcolm crewmates he lives to protect, the closest thing to family he has left after the destruction of his home planet.
Brilliant scientist Aleema can teach him how to use his modifications without triggering  PTSD. She’s survived the same meddling aliens and suffered even more dramatic alterations. At least her unwanted immortality means she’s had time to figure out how the modifications work and use the knowledge to aid other survivors. Helping Buck means spending some serious time together.

Time enough to fall in love.

Just as happiness seems within their grasp, Aleema realizes one of Buck’s modifications dooms him to an unthinkable future. To save him, she must place herself in the hands of their common enemy and leave Buck to face his worst fears without her.

Buy links: Amazon / iTunes / Kobo / All Romance Ebooks / B&N

As a break between talking about science fiction romance, how about a taste of a brand-new erotic contemporary romance? The lovely and talented Lilah E. Noir is here with snippets of her new release The Brat with the Phoenix Tattoo. (How about that for an eye-catching title?)

Release date: 29th August 2016

Genre: BDSM erotic romance

Author: Lilah E. Noir

Cover design: Lilah E. Noir

International Link: http://mybook.to/PhoenixTattooSummer

Sage Phoenix has been the thorn in Paul Skyler’s side ever since their final night of high school. She was a bright spot of chaos in his cerebral world of logic and order. The manic pixie dream girl who drove him crazy and left him panting, seduced and longing for more of her spell. The only woman who ever saw him in his most naked and vulnerable state.
For years Paul’s been dreaming of nothing but giving her a taste of her own poison. When he spots Sage behind the glass of her run down tattoo studio he knows he’d never get a better chance. His briefcase contains everything necessary to punish her, put her through her paces and keep her on the edge and at his mercy… just to humiliate her completely and leave her bound to her own tattoo chair.
Little does he suspect that by the end of the night he’d be too addicted to their power exchange to walk away. Little does she know that by the end of the summer she’d be completely under his spell.

Lilah E. Noir is an author of dark erotic novels and stories with elements of taboo, seduction and different aspects of the BDSM spectrum. Her tales are focused on the intricate relationships between people and their rough yet always sensual encounters.

Lilah is an author of Stroker Ace, a menage novella that has been nominated for a Best BDSM Book of 2015 at the Menage category. At the beginning of the summer, Lilah released her debut full-length novel, Unorthodox Therapy, first part of a trilogy exploring the nature of addiction.

The Brat With The Phoenix Tattoo:Summer is part 1 of a four book series dedicated to the different seasons of a relationship between two polar opposite people brought together by their love of kink and power exchange.

When she doesn’t write Lilah enjoys creating covers for herself and other writers.

I got up without saying another word and walked to her, holding my breath as I stared at her hypnotizing eyes. Sage looked confused and insecure at my sudden move, especially when I wrapped my fingers around her tender wrist and removed the glass from her fingers. She gasped and stared up at me with genuine shock. So I used the moment to stroke her hand and run my thumb down her bottom lip. Her pulse quickened and she swallowed while looking at me in the eyes like a deer in the headlights.

“I was sure you’d be more than excited at my ability to predict and assess risks,” I said in a teasing voice while caressing her chin. “I wish I had been savvier about all the risks involved the only time I tried being a betting man… with you.” Sage blinked for a moment and opened her mouth to let out a slight, purring groan so I opened her lips wider by using my thumb. I inclined further as if about to kiss her but stopped in the last minute with a cruel smirk. “You won’t need this. Also, why ice? I thought a hardcore chick like you wouldn’t take her whiskey on the rocks?”

The look on her face when I let go of her jaw and walked away was so damned precious it made my cock throb with excitement. Sage reached out to caress her lips, where my fingers have been laying just a minute ago, warming her up, feeling her blood rush. The knowledge I could have the same effect on her made me feel powerful and stripped me of all my earlier doubts and worries. She looked around nervously and brought her hand to her neck, at a loss of words.

I kept on circling around her chair, with my hands behind my back and kept watching her, as if she was a subject of an experiment. Her perky breasts heaved up and down rapidly while the woman was trying to regain composure.

“I… I was just being playful.”

“Well, we both know how much you love playing games, kitten.”

Sage frowned a little at that unexpected pet name. I had never used it with her before. As cheesy as it was it fit her very well. Finally, she uttered in a hesitant voice, still feeling up her bottom lip.

“I wasn’t trying to belittle your success but it was always clear to see you’d go far someday.” She kept staring at her boots. Her gaze fell on on the intricate buckles and Sage kept playing with them with shaking fingers. I’ve been watching her closely and didn’t fail to notice the reddening of her cheeks, the way her nipples hardened, how her posture changed. Her confidence was melting just like the ice in my water.

Sage had always been the type of girl in need of proper handling but I never thought she might be genuinely submissive.

“You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself too, Sage.” My voice was soft as I went behind her and ran my fingers through her hair. Watching her squirm under my light and seemingly innocent touch was so much fun. It was time to raise the stakes so I brushed my lips against her earlobe and whispered.

“Are all these designs yours?”

Sage gasped again and squeezed her hands in her lap as I kept tracing the front of her neck with fingers.

“No, Finley did at least half of what you are seeing.” Her back was stiff as I let my hand slowly run along the line of her spine, caressing her skin with small, feather-like movements. “My forte is the industrial tattoo design. These are some of my latest stuff.” She pointed at an abstract steampunk styled frame. It showed a tattoo design of a sleeve that consisted of elaborate clocks and gears. “I still have a long way to go but I’m getting better, and all my clients are coming back for more.”

“Then it’s a good thing you didn’t give up on your cute little art hobby, isn’t it?” She tensed at these words and looked down with her eyes closed. That was more condescending than I planned it. Bruising her ego would make her more compliant but there was no need to hurt her feelings. “You were always talented.” I laid my hands on her shoulders and kissed her neck. Her shoulders trembled slightly, her breathing hitched and she squeezed her fists harder at my touch. Other than that Sage showed in no way my intrusion in her private space was unpleasant.

A depraved, dark part of me expected her to struggle, protest, cry, bite and scratch me, that I’d have my way with her whether she liked it or not. I hadn’t done anything drastic yet so there was always a chance for her to start fighting back if I went further. Still, I hoped those ugly, violent urges would remain unsatisfied. I wanted to walk out of that place cleansed, not feeling as a deranged rapist.

Besides, seeing Sage surrender herself and get down on her knees for me would be more arousing than the thought of fucking her against her will.

She blinked a few times and kept sucking as I tried to decide what should I use on her perfect, unmarred skin, so pale that it begged to be marked. It was difficult to think while those luscious lips were wrapped around my cock and sucked me so hard as if my new fuck toy was trying to devour me. So I pulled away and slapped it across her face so I’d smear it with more of my thick and salty precum before I put it back in my pants. Sage stared at me with hungry, insatiable eyes and used the moment to breathe. The leather strap was still hanging around her neck. It would probably come handy later but now I needed something more impressive.

“You know… you almost gave me a tattoo machine fetish back then.” I explained to her matter of factly as I squatted next to the briefcase. “Sometimes I still get hard whenever I see someone getting tattooed. That stinging sensation…” I grinned at her and pulled the new violet wand I bought a few weeks ago. Little did I know back then how soon I’d get to use it. “I think it is fair to give you a similar sensation.” The electrode I planned to use on her was a lot smaller than the plasma balls I had a soft spot for. This one was in the form of a long, glass tube that curved at the end, with a mushroom head. “You ever tried some of these?” I dangled the device by its cable it in front of her eyes the same way she did with my car keys back then. She shook her head and paled a little, biting her lips with fear in her eyes. “No worries, pet, you’ll love it. It’s a shame no one used it on you, with how sensitive you are.” After some hesitation, I also picked up my favorite Wartenberg pinwheel and stuffed it in my pocket, out of her sight.

“I… Please, use it on me.”

“Good girl.” I stroked her hair and plugged the cord into the outlet under her tattoo chair. The glass tube slowly heated up under Sage’s amazed eyes and she swallowed. Then she licked her lips and watched the pale blue light inside the glass, with fear and curiosity but not revulsion. I had no idea whether that was Sage’s first brush with kink but that woman was fucking natural.

Without giving her any warning I pulled my still hard cock out and put it back between her lips.

“Suck me real slow while I test it on you. We’ll do some slow direct touch. Don’t you dare hurry up too much, let alone take me deep down your throat or I’ll punish you. Trust me, I have no problem doing things you can’t handle. Do you understand?”

“Yes…”

I had to bite my tongue to correct her and make her refer to me as Master. But I couldn’t get her to attach to me or start thinking she was my sub. For a moment the temptation was so strong it choked me, just like those words I never told her during that night. Calling her “pet” was bad enough and probably my worst fuck up for the entire evening.

I moaned slightly while Sage served my cock with her soft, loving licks, smooching the tip and running her tongue all around it. It was time to taste if she was ready for some serious play. The butt plug was nestled nicely inside her tight ass and her pierced clit was swollen and dripping juices. I grinned again and placed the tip of the tube against her left nipple, red and swollen from my rough treatment earlier.

Sage whimpered as the electrical sparkles licked her skin and made her body tense. I ran the wand between her breasts, holding its plastic container tight while my cock was bathed by her talented mouth.

“It feels so good…” She whispered against my engorged head and kept sucking it. I hissed and kept the device longer on her other nipple, enjoying the vibrations of her smooth skin. My action coaxed another, a longer cry of pleasure and intensity out of her.

“And if you only knew how good it would feel on your clit piercing. I’m not sure you can handle it, though. Let’s see.” In response Sage sucked me harder and ran her teeth against the mushroom of my cock, nibbling it very lightly. I chuckled and ran the wand against her mound, right over the landing strip of trimmed jet black hair. “Bad girl. Using teeth already? I’d have to break you out of that habit… or encourage it.”

Her pupils dilated when the smooth surface of my device slid against the hoop of her piercing. The scream died in her throat as I used the perfect moment to ram my shaft deep and rough in her mouth. The beautiful violet sparkles were flying off the metal on her vulnerable flesh. Sage looked as if she was being electrocuted in that moment, writhing on the chair, rolling her eyes and trying to escape from the powerful charge. She was crying hard against my cock that was killing all her protests and groans. I held her hair with one hand and proceeded to facefuck her. I was curious to see how long she’d last with the violet wand right on her clit, the metal conducting electricity to her most intimate zones. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and her pussy was leaking with juices that streamed at the base of the butt plug.

Book International Link – http://mybook.to/PhoenixTattooSummer
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I’ve been babbling for the last few days about my 9/1 release Buck, Naked (Chronicles of the Malcolm 3). As part of the effort to spread the word, I’m taking part in this month’s SFR Brigade Showcase. That’s Science Fiction Romance, if you haven’t had your coffee yet. 🙂 I’m one of a group of SFR authors who’ll be taking part to highlight new releases, do character interviews, or just talk about science fiction in general.

Check out all the other participants in the SFR Brigade Showcase here. You’ll be glad you did!

The Chronicles of the Malcolm series reflects my love of two great science fiction TV shows, Farscape and Firefly. It’s certainly not fanfic, but once you meet my motley crew of space rascals with good hearts who find themselves fending off forces more powerful than they are, you’ll see my love for these shows shining through. Even the name of the spaceship is a bow to good old “Captain Tightpants,” aka Malcolm Reynolds of Firefly.

One thing to be clear on, though: Buck is not Jayne from Firefly, though he’s a weapons expert without much education. My Buck’s a genuinely nice guy who’d really rather be cooking for the crew than fighting for them. Due to a combination of PTSD and alien biomodifications inflicted while he was a POW, though, he’s very good at fighting and keeps getting drawn back into violent situations.

Here’s a taste of Buck and his soon-to-be heroine Aleema–a scientist who’s also a survivor of the same experiment-happy aliens–trying to make dinner without anything bad happening. It’s from Aleema’s point of view.

After the others took their drinks and left, Aleema handed him a bag of vegetables—a few that had come with humans from Earth and a few native to Naxos or other dry planets—and a sharp kitchen knife. “Mind chopping these up for me while I get the mealworm-crumble going?”

“You got crumble? Awesome. It ain’t exactly actual-factual meat, but it’s better than nutri-mix. ‘Just add water’ my ass. More like add a whole bottle of something high-test and maybe you won’t notice your dinner doesn’t taste like anything.”

She turned toward the evapo-cooler to take out the crumble, acting like nothing felt uneasy about the situation.

In reality she poised on the balls of her feet, all senses sharp, ready to take evasive action if necessary. She didn’t literally have eyes in the back of her head—thank the stars for that, because she wouldn’t put it past the Seera to think that sounded like a terrific idea that they should test out on a few prisoners before they implemented it on themselves—but her senses were keen enough she’d know if he were making a move.

At the moment, though, everything seemed fine. As he chopped, just a little too fast for most humans to match, Buck said, “Thank you. It means something that you’d trust me with a knife right off.”

His voice was deep and raspy, as if he’d inhaled far too much smoke or more likely, some gas-based weapon. Despite that, his tone was surprisingly sweet and humble. “For that matter, thanks for letting me help out—the captain gets to order me around, but there’s no need for you to listen to him. I was a cook before…before everything. Makes me feel normal-like to be in a kitchen.”

Aleema let out a deep, relieved breath. Though she stayed on high alert—he had PTSD, Seera scars, and mod-integration issues, so you never knew what might set him off—all she had to fight at the moment was the urge to hug Buck. She knew it would end badly, but she wanted to pull him close, assure him everything would be all right, that if they worked together, he’d eventually feel “normal-like” on a regular basis and be able to cope better with the times he didn’t.

Worse than that, she wanted to pull him close because she’d almost forgotten what it was like to hold an attractive man in her arms, press her body against his. She might be stable now, but there had been incidents earlier in her recovery that she wouldn’t risk again just for some bodily warmth.

But with Buck, it might be safe. He’d be able to anticipate. Be able to stop her if she got crazy. And maybe knowing that would be enough to keep her calm, make it safe…

Yeah, right. A girl could dream, but in this case, if she gave into the daydream, it would probably lead to Buck using that knife on her.

Best to distract herself. Keep talking. Besides, if Buck wanted to feel normal, she owed him an ordinary conversation, or as close as she could manage when she was assaulted with sexual fantasies and feeling the almost-forgotten urge to flirt.

“You were a chef?” she asked.

“Just a cook my last year of basicschool and a while after. It weren’t nothing but in a hole-in-the-wall diner, but I liked the job. Did good at it too, even though the owner only hired me because she knew my parents. I started out doing prep stuff part-time after school and worked up to line cook in six months. Made a mean deep-fried glaspoid with pan gravy if I do say myself.” He smiled. “Cooking ain’t hard if you have good ingredients, and Montgomery was a farming planet. Mostly for export, but we kept enough so we ate decent-like. Never tasted nutri-mix or mealworm crumble until the Seera came. No offense to your crumble. City folks have to eat what they can get.”

“None taken, although the crumble deserves insults. They say it’s mealworms and soy, but I have my suspicions it’s recycled bits of whatever won’t kill you, liberally laced with salt.”

“I suspicion you might be right.” He hesitated, then corrected himself. “Suspect, that is. Montgomery’s version of Standard was what you’d call not exactly standard, but my friends have been tryin’ to teach me to talk nicer.” He blessed her with another smile.

Stars, he was handsome when he smiled. Battered, scruffy, but handsome.

She thought she knew how to sort out the conflicting information passed on by her over-enhanced senses. She’d had plenty of time to practice, after all. But Buck Evans was a puzzle liberally laced with enigma. He was a tightly drawn wire, quivering with barely restrained fear and rage, and he wanted to let go in a burst of soothing violence. She knew that feeling. It had been a long time since she let herself indulge it, but she remembered the surge of endorphins, the tension that was both horrible and erotic, the sweet, sexual ache when she finally exploded into a whirl of pain and rage looking for a target, any target.

He stank of detox. He kept himself clean, so unmodified humans wouldn’t notice, though a felinoid or some other keen-nosed species might, but it was obvious to Aleema’s tweaked senses. He used to drink heavily. He’d stopped cold turkey, not too long ago, and his system was cleansing itself. He had to feel like something the cat wouldn’t bother dragging in because it wasn’t putting up a fight anymore and wasn’t any fun.

But under the unhealthy sweat of detox, he smelled like something she wanted to press her face into and just breathe.

And he was being polite. Making friendly conversation. Thanking her for accepting him, for letting him help in the kitchen, even though it hadn’t been his idea. Mik’s order had been couched like a suggestion but she’d recognized it for what it was as readily as Buck had.

He was holding it together, even though she suspected it was causing him physical as well as mental anguish.

*

What happens next? Thrilling mid-air pursuits, space shoot-outs, a deadly common enemy. and possibly true love…but first, one surprisingly tasty dinner, with flirting.

To save him, she must strip him bare.
Security expert Buck’s senses are inhumanly keen, to the point he can see through time and space, and that’s just the start of his odd abilities—thank you, alien captors. He also experiences paranoia, flashbacks, and the occasional hallucination—thank you, PTSD. No wonder he fears he could hurt one of the Malcolm crewmates he lives to protect, the closest thing to family he has left after the destruction of his home planet.
Brilliant scientist Aleema can teach him how to use his modifications without triggering  PTSD. She’s survived the same meddling aliens and suffered even more dramatic alterations. At least her unwanted immortality means she’s had time to figure out how the modifications work and use the knowledge to aid other survivors. Helping Buck means spending some serious time together.

Time enough to fall in love.

Just as happiness seems within their grasp, Aleema realizes one of Buck’s modifications dooms him to an unthinkable future. To save him, she must place herself in the hands of their common enemy and leave Buck to face his worst fears without her.

Buy links: Amazon / iTunes / Kobo / All Romance Ebooks (Nook is coming soon.)

If you want help imagining Buck naked, drool over Redmond “Doc Peg-Leg” Ramos; photograph by Michael Stokes

I’m back with another Buck, Naked tease, and this time he and his heroine Aleema are finally getting naked. (They try earlier in the book. Villains keep interrupting them.)  Since they’ve both been celibate for a long time, it’s emotional, intense, and a little awkward.

Hands on his hips, she guided him toward the mattress, encouraged him down onto it.

It had seemed more than adequate when she’d dragged it out from the city, but compared to Buck’s height and bulk, it seemed tiny. At the same time, it encompassed the whole galaxy.

A galaxy that swirled and expanded as they got naked.

Buck had more scars than undamaged skin.

So did she.

Hers were pale against her dark skin and had had plenty of time to fade. He was fair-skinned, so the scars stood out starkly purple.

She did her best to kiss each one of his scars. At first he lay very still, making small noises of protest. But her lips and her tongue and her hands wore him down and before long he moaned deep in his throat.

Parts that Aleema had done her best to ignore for two centuries woke up hungry. Her pussy felt swollen, lush, wet enough to irrigate the desert, and Buck hadn’t even touched it yet. Her nipples ached where she brushed against Buck’s delightfully furry chest. She couldn’t even remember, at this point, whether she’d fancied men with beards and chest hair when she was young, before the Seera. All she knew was that Buck’s beard felt cosmic on her skin, and the chest hair accented the lines of his battered, muscular body and she wouldn’t change his hairiness for a fashionably depilated smoothstyle man. Not even for a whole shipload of them, all handsome as holo stars, randy as Marines on leave, and rich enough to buy her a planet of her own.

She couldn’t get enough of the salt and musk of his skin, couldn’t get enough of the varying textures of him, or of the noises he made and the way his hands alternated between tangling in her hair and exploring her body with just the right combination of roughness and reverence.

Her kisses grew more heated as she lavished them lower and lower on his body. At the damaged left thigh, she paused, asked, “May I touch you here?” The physical pain had healed as much as it ever would, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still twinge in other ways.

She felt the shrug, although she didn’t see it. “Sure. Not sure why you’d want to… Oh!” She was licking the scars, nibbling, lavishing all the affection she’d kept hidden for so many years to show him she thought he was gorgeous just as he was. As she tongued his inner thigh and kissed her way down to the slick, stretched scars where the prosthetic interfaced with his leg, she could feel him let go and sink into a dreamy, aroused state.

Blurb:

To save him, she must strip him bare.
Security expert Buck’s senses are inhumanly keen, to the point he can see through time and space, and that’s just the start of his odd abilities—thank you, alien captors. He also experiences paranoia, flashbacks, and the occasional hallucination—thank you, PTSD. No wonder he fears he could hurt one of the Malcolm crewmates he lives to protect, the closest thing to family he has left after the destruction of his home planet.
Brilliant scientist Aleema can teach him how to use his modifications without triggering  PTSD. She’s survived the same meddling aliens and suffered even more dramatic alterations. At least her unwanted immortality means she’s had time to figure out how the modifications work and use the knowledge to aid other survivors. Helping Buck means spending some serious time together.

Time enough to fall in love.

Just as happiness seems within their grasp, Aleema realizes one of Buck’s modifications dooms him to an unthinkable future. To save him, she must place herself in the hands of their common enemy and leave Buck to face his worst fears without her.

Buy links with pre-orders available: Amazon / iTunes / Kobo / All Romance Ebooks

It will also be available for Barnes and Noble Nook on or slightly after the official release day of 9/1. (Nook claims it may take up to 72 hours after the book “publishes” tomorrow.) Apologies to my Nook-using fans; next time I’ll get the pre-order right.

I’m remiss. Buck, Naked comes out on Thursday, September 1 and I haven’t shared any tasty excerpts with you yet. To make up for it, I’ll share a few over the next several days. If you’ve read Thrill-Kinky and Bad Kitty, you already know Buck’s a little damaged. In this book, we learn he was the victim of some alien medical experiments as a POW, and they’ve had lasting effects–ones that will either make him more than human or destroy him. Aleema may be the only person who can help him, but she’s been warped by the same aliens. This excerpt shows Buck and Aleema’s first meeting and it’s not exactly a “cute meet” to say the least! The combination of attraction and paranoia mark a lot of their initial interactions.

At first glance, Aleema was good-looking, a tall, curvy human woman with black hair brushing her shoulders and skin far darker than Buck’s own fair complexion, though lighter than Mik, who was as close to actual-factual black as a human got without cosmetic mods. Maybe this gig wouldn’t be so bad. Awkward, sure, telling his woes to a complete stranger and a pretty one at that, but at least he’d have something nice to look at while he was getting his head shrunk.

Then he took a second look.

She had human features, human coloring. But her eyes were solid black and when she extended her arms to hug Gan, Buck saw her left hand had webbed fingers like a Seera. She had only five fingers, like a proper human hand, not seven, but it was close enough to a Seera to register as a threat. He reached for his laserpistol before he could stop himself.

The voices in his head screamed no.

Not his conscience, although that was making some noise about the notion of shooting a friend of Gan’s in cold blood, but the voices in his head, the horrors that more often than not prompted him to do stupidly violent things.

This time, the horrors were reminding him of things he’d rather forget about his time as a prisoner of the Seera. The experiments they’d performed on him and other captured soldiers. Stars, the things they did to themselves sometimes, just for fun or curiosity, best as he’d been able to figure out. A Seera scientist never met a natural body that couldn’t be “improved” in some way.

If Aleema was a survivor of a Seera experiment herself, one worse than what he’d undergone or at least leaving more obvious traces, it made sense why Gan wanted them to meet.

Buck was still creepified, but he’d give her a chance.

He could always shoot her later.

*

Aleema peered cautiously out the door, checking all directions and, not for the first time, thanking the stars for the irony that the modifications that made her caution necessary also made it easier by improving her field of vision and heightening all her senses. It had been years since anyone other than bored teenagers had messed with her, and the teens had confined themselves to painting rude slurs on her housepod. Her neighbors were used to her odd appearance and as long as she wore gloves and dark glasses or contact lenses, she could move about freely in other areas. She probably wouldn’t get harassed if she omitted the gloves and glasses—she wasn’t the only Seera survivor in Naxos City with some visible effects—but her mods were extensive enough they made people notice her, and that was never a good idea. If people paid too much attention, they might pick up that she didn’t age, even as much as people addicted to vanity regens inevitably did.

Besides, it never hurt to take precautions. Over the long years, a lot of people had tried to kill her. They hadn’t succeeded, of course, but the attempts still hurt. She might heal faster than unmodified humans, but she felt pain just as keenly.

Gan was waiting outside, just like he’d commed that he would be, his human husband by his side. A bearded human male, scruffy and scarred, paced back and forth behind them as if guarding the rear. He had the posture of a soldier and was assessing the street for threats even more obviously than she had been. It had to be Buck, the man Gan hoped she could counsel.

Assuming he was Buck, he screamed armed and dangerous. He didn’t have a weapon visible, out of respect for local laws, but she could tell he was carrying. He hid it well, but her vision was keener than most, saw things it wasn’t supposed to notice.

And marling stars, he was attractive, though he seemed to be going out of his way to hide it, with the messy brown hair and untrimmed beard. His faded red clingshirt stretched over a broad chest that a loose olive jacket did little to conceal. She knew from Gan’s coms that Buck’s baggy olive trousers—some planet’s military surplus, she guessed—hid a prosthetic leg, but she wouldn’t have suspected from the way the man moved.

She took all that data in and analyzed it in the short time it took her to walk toward Gan, another blessing and curse of being who and what she was. She wasn’t a cyborg—though people who had the good fortune to be unfamiliar with the Seera sometimes thought she might be one of those rare flesh-machine hybrids—but both her senses and her thought processes ran far faster than the norm.

Which meant that even while she gave Gan a big hug, taking in his pleasant, familiar smell of milk and sunshine, she remained vigilant. Remained aware.

Took in that Buck had noticed her eyes and her hand. Registered that he twitched toward the laserpistol concealed by the baggy jacket, but stopped himself.

Noticed the quick terror that passed over his face and the confused calm that followed it, like an order no one else could hear had squashed his momentary urge toward violence.

Stars, he was like her, as Gan had hoped and feared. The Seera hadn’t gotten as far with him in ways visible to the naked eye, but he’d had a lot less time to adapt to the ways his brain and body were no longer quite his.

With any luck, she could buy him the time he needed.

Blurb:

To save him, she must strip him bare.
Security expert Buck’s senses are inhumanly keen, to the point he can see through time and space, and that’s just the start of his odd abilities—thank you, alien captors. He also experiences paranoia, flashbacks, and the occasional hallucination—thank you, PTSD. No wonder he fears he could hurt one of the Malcolm crewmates he lives to protect, the closest thing to family he has left after the destruction of his home planet.
Brilliant scientist Aleema can teach him how to use his modifications without triggering  PTSD. She’s survived the same meddling aliens and suffered even more dramatic alterations. At least her unwanted immortality means she’s had time to figure out how the modifications work and use the knowledge to aid other survivors. Helping Buck means spending some serious time together.

Time enough to fall in love.

Just as happiness seems within their grasp, Aleema realizes one of Buck’s modifications dooms him to an unthinkable future. To save him, she must place herself in the hands of their common enemy and leave Buck to face his worst fears without her.

Buy links with pre-orders available: Amazon / iTunes / Kobo

Nook and All Romance eBooks are coming on the official release day of 9/1. Apologies to readers who want those formats, but they don’t offer pre-orders (or at least I haven’t figured out how to make pre-orders work, which is another possibility.)

Guilty pleasure. Perfect Sin.

New Orleans gets in your blood. Like sweet chocolate or a decadent bite. Ancient mysteries hide behind hidden doorways, and messy love happens in the dim bar lights of the French Quarter. Follow us through nine tales of love found through need, pain, desire, and inhuman temptations. Contemporary, paranormal, menage, or gender bending, we’ve got it all, in one perfect package. Just like the city itself.

9 Erotic Romance Tales in the Big Easy

Dedicated to Amanda Byrne. May your stories live on forever.

Amazon US| Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo

Bayou Shadows by Erzabet Bishop
Voodoo dreams and buried lies bring Delia to New Orleans. A sexy shifter with secrets of his own might just get her to stay…

Sultry by Amanda Byrnes
Ash is really fuckin’ tired of being a virgin. Rory’s suddenly got an urge to seduce him. But can their friendship survive?

Sinfully Hot by Tina Donahue
A hotter-than-sin reaper. A badass demon. Hell doesn’t get steamier than this.

Playing with Fire by Margaret Madigan
When Vlad Golakov is sent to New Orleans to find a missing woman, he plans to get the job done quickly, then enjoy the Big Easy. He doesn’t expect to fall in love with the woman-turned-werewolf or teach the pack’s alpha that when you play with fire, you’re bound to get burned.

Creole Corsair by Wren Michaels
Sabine Chauvet needs closure on her family’s past. But when she runs into Jasper Carrington, her old high school crush, the one thing in her past she wasn’t searching for finds her instead.

Phenomenal by LeTeisha Newton
We all lose, and it snatches our souls right out our chests. When I lost her, I wanted to destroy the world with the same bloody hands I used to pound my enemies. When I win her back, she won’t get away again. I’ll risk my life for it.

Change of Heart by Liv Rancourt
Preacher always said New Orleans was a den of sin, so of course Clarabelle had to see for herself…

An Evening at Crossroads by Kate Richards
They broke every taboo, an ancient vampire, an exotic shifter on the run sharing gay romance under the roof of the newest and most daring club in New Orleans

Lion of Frenchman Street by Teresa Noelle Roberts
When saxophonist Peter Lyons invites New Orleans newcomer Kelsey into his world of jazz and kinky sex, his dominance ignites her body and his music speaks to her soul. But Peter’s hiding old pain and when Kelsey’s offered a job out of town, everything goes out of tune.

Well, first of all because I was lucky enough to be invited to participate in an anthology about one of my favorite cities. New Orleans has a magic like no place else and I come back from visits there full of inspiration. Every part of the city has so many stories of its own. I hope I did justice to the feel of the Big Easy.

Second, I was glad to have the opportunity to continue the story of Warren and the crew of Evening at Animals. The shifter world in which they live has its own magic that I feel blends with New Orleans, even if the original club is far away in Arizona. The Superstitions are every bit as mystical in their own way. And with all the strife in the world right now, a story about two people from different “races” and backgrounds made me happy. ~ Kate

Paranormal beings fascinate me. To have even a tenth of their superpowers—wow. Tell me you wouldn’t like to use a gift for precognition to find out which stocks to buy or whether you’ll get that raise. That said, special gifts do come with drawbacks (doesn’t everything?). A vamp may live forever, if you call that living, but for some, sunlight’s a killer. Weres frequently have bad hair days. A hot reaper like Zekiel and badass demon like Jewel have their own problems. For her, it’s meeting her ‘soul quota’ for Satan. For him, it’s making sure she doesn’t sign everyone up for Hell before he can reap them. As competitors and lovers, they’ve met their match. ~ Tina

Why I wrote the book: I have always been fascinated by New Orleans and the loupe garou legends in the surrounding swamps. The character of Marie Laveau is also one of interest. What if I could combine the two for a spicy tale of love, redemption and voodoo? Thus sprang the impetus for the Root Workers series and the bare bones of Bayou Shadows. There will be many more books to come and I plan to lengthen this first novella a good deal. I also wanted to showcase what it may have been like to be a gay man in those times, consciously on alert from being discovered. Add in the power of a necromancer in Marie Laveau’s city and you have a powder keg just waiting to explode.

Delia’s character is also one I loved. She wants to know her past, but it is kept hidden from her-for a purpose. There is power in secrets, especially hers. I wanted to explore the loa principle in voodoo and give her a parent who will ultimately help determine if she can navigate the dark side to help save the man she loves. I hope you enjoy the read and remember…there is magic in the moonlight… ~ Erzabet

The Lion of Frenchman Street started out simply enough: my husband and I spent our last vacation in New Orleans, much of it listening to jazz on Frenchman Street. At one club, I spotted an adorable tattooed female bartender who danced along to the music as she mixed cocktails. I thought she’d make a great character someday. And I knew her hero would be a jazz musician. Being the kind of writer I am, I was pretty sure they’d both be kinky. When I got a chance to write for this collection, I remembered that bar and that bartender and imagined a talented, hardworking sax player, who, like many of the men I’d seen in New Orleans, dressed sharp even in bone-meltingly hot weather. I had no idea who this handsome man really was, though, until I dreamed of a lion. The lion was magnificent, a perfect specimen, until I got closer. Then I could see it had a hole in its ribcage and its heart was bleeding. I woke up knowing that under my hero’s gorgeous, Domly surface, he was a hot mess with a broken heart–and a ginger with crazy hair. From there, I could write the tale. ~ Teresa

Creole Corsair was not my first attempt at a novella for this anthology, it was actually my third. The first two attempts kept spinning out of control, and I couldn’t rein in the characters or storyline to fit the parameters set for the story lengths. I’m a complete pantser, so until I start writing I have no idea where my stories will go. So to do right by the anthology, and the two previous stories I started, I had to set them aside for other projects because they need their own full length books. I finally settled on Sabine and Jasper and came up with a plot I could work into a novella. People say write what you know. What do I know? Unrequited high school love, being the chubby kid, and pirates. LOL So I built a story weaving in those three things, tapping into a ‘what if’ scenario that all girls who suffered the unrequited feelings of our first love think about…what if he actually did love us too? I hope everyone enjoys my version of that fantasy. ~Wren

I wrote Phenomenal to be a transitional piece in my Lost Series, a collection of standalone novels around a central lost theme. I loved the song Phenomenal by Eminem and Mixed Martial Arts. I thought “what would happen if you had the spirit of a champion but life got in the way? How bad would you fall down?” In Phenomenal, My hero has fallen to the ground. He’s beaten, torn into pieces, and gasping for breath. And yet he still gets in the ring. But he’s forgotten something…how to fight for himself. That is until he finds a woman who’s had the fight beaten out of her too. And yet she doesn’t give up. She finds a way to leave her abusive husband, and forces the hero to take a long look at his situation. Someone else’s situation can always be worse than your own. If they can get up, you better. And then I took her away from him. Yeah, my hero hated me, and it made him fight harder. That battle between us, he to get his girl back, me to keep her away until he was worthy, created Phenomenal. ~LeTeisha

I joked with the other ladies in the anthology that I wrote this book simply because I like sexy dragons. Because, who doesn’t, right? Originally, I wrote a short piece about a group of dragon shifters for a different anthology call, but I loved it so much I decided I’d rather turn it into a series. Playing With Fire is a prequel of sorts to that first piece and will be followed by the rest of the series about the men of Komodo Security and Private Investigations–all dragon shifters. I like the idea of exploring dragons from multiple cultures and histories, and taking some of the different elements of dragon lore and turning them around for a different take. So…keep a watch out for the next book in the Komodo Securities series! ~Margaret

Our wonderful friend and fellow NOLA Naughty Nin9 author, Amanda Byrnes, passed away in July. We dedicate this anthology to her memory. The loss has touched us deeply. But none more so than by her friend and critique partner, fellow NOLA Naughty Nin9 author Liv Rancourt, who on behalf of Amanda will share some things about why Amanda wrote her story…

This is a story about friendship. It’s a story about hundreds of shared emails and more than a few glasses of wine. It’s a story about laughter, and understanding, and respect.

And that’s just me n’ Amanda.

The story of Sultry contains many of the same elements. Last January, one of the original Naughty Nine authors had to bow out, so I emailed my friend and critique partner Amanda K. Byrne, and asked her if she’d be interested in filling the slot. She agreed, and after we worked out the details, I was treated to a stream of emails. “What about this? Do you think it would work?” She had lots of great ideas – I’ve never known another writer who could top her for spinning plot bunnies – but nothing clicked.

Then in the end of January, she sent me the first scene of a story. Ash, the hero, is a virgin. Rory, the heroine and his very best friend, is not. She’s the only woman he’s ever felt comfortable with, and, to use Amanda’s own words, “…the point … is to gender-flip the whole ‘virgin heroine asks the player hero to take her virginity'” thing. Ash and Rory were friends first, and the steps that led them to becoming lovers makes a fabulously sweet and hot story.

Sultry came together fast – Amanda could crank out the words (good words, too!), and my beta-reading comments were mostly along the lines of “OMG YOU WROTE A 25 PAGE SEX SCENE AND IT WORKS AND I HATE YOU”.

Nah, not really. 🙂

I didn’t hate her at all. I admired her, and respected her, and damn but I miss her. Amanda unexpectedly passed away on July 5th, leaving behind friends and family and her long-time S.O. I hope you enjoy Sultry, and that you seek out Amanda’s other work. She had so much talent and so much heart, and we’ll all feel her loss for a very long time. ~Liv

The germ of the idea for Change of Heart came from a scholarly article I read about Dr. James Barry, a 19th century British military surgeon. He was incredibly gifted, accomplished, and known for being rude, and after he died, the serving-woman who prepared his body discovered he was a woman.

His story has been claimed by feminists, and more recently by students of trans history. It’s impossible to know how Dr. Barry viewed himself – as a highly intelligent woman who did what was necessary to practice medicine at a time when women were forbidden to do so, or as a man who happened to have a different biology.

Either way, Dr. Barry fascinates me. There are very few records of trans people from before the 1970s, and I wanted to explore how it might have been to live with that kind of secret. We’d agreed to set all our stories in New Orleans, and since few US cities have a more colorful history, I basically just picked a year and went with it. I hope I captured something of the time and place, and I hope you enjoy my sweet and spicy little story. ~ Liv

USA Today Bestselling Author Kate Richards is a multi-published author of spicy romance stories in various subgenres. She lives in sunny Southern California with her wonderful husband and menagerie of rescued pets.

Kate loves the beaches, mountains and deserts of her home state as well as traveling whenever possible to meet readers and other authors.

Exploring all types of relationships in her books, Kate writes menage, BDSM, and every other kind of romance she can think of.

FACEBOOK | TWITTER | INSTAGRAM

Tina is an Amazon and international bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic novels (Freeing the Beast, Come and Get Your Love, and Wicked Takeover) were Readers’ Choice Award winners. Another three (Adored, Lush Velvet Nights, and Deep, Dark, Delicious) were named finalists in the EPIC competition. Sensual Stranger, her erotic contemporary romance, was chosen Book of the Year at the French review site Blue Moon reviews. The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for her erotic romance Lush Velvet Nights. Two of her titles (The Yearning and Deep, Dark, Delicious) received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition. Take Me Away and Adored both won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS

Erzabet Bishop is an award winning author who loves to write naughty stories. She is the author of Lipstick, Dinner Date, Crave, Hedging Her Bets, Red Hot, The Science of Lust, Arcane Imaginarium: Spirit Board, Holidays in Hell, Mallory’s Mark (upcoming 2016),The Devil’s Due (upcoming 2016), Charity Benshaw’s Enchanted Paddle Emporium (upcoming 2016), Sigil Fire, Glitter Lust (upcoming 2016), Written on Skin, Club Beam, Pomegranate, A Red Dress for Christmas, The Black Magic Café, Fantasies in Red, Wicked for You, Sweet Seductions: The Erzabet Bishop Collection, Holiday Cruise, Fetish Fair, Temptation Resorts: Jess, Temptation Resorts: Marnie, Taming the Beast, The Erotic Pagans Series: Beltane Fires, Samhain Shadows and Yuletide Temptation along with being a contributor to many anthologies. Erzabet has been a finalist in the GCLS awards for 2014 and 2015. She has also been nominated for the Golden Flogger Award for Crave. She lives in Texas with her husband, furry children and can often be found lurking in local bookstores. She loves to bake, make naughty crochet projects and watch monster movies. When she isn’t writing, she loves to review music and books.

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | INSTAGRAM

Teresa Noelle Roberts writes erotic romance and romantic erotica for passionate people who like tales of true love on the spicy side. Also a poet and fantasy writer, she has a particular fondness for paranormal and fantasy tales in which the romantic, the supernatural, and of course the erotic mingle. She’s also drawn to things kinky.

Born in the Finger Lakes region of New York, she now lives in southeastern Massachusetts with her own personal hero and a clowder of exceedingly large cats. When she’s not writing, you might find Teresa working in the vegetable garden…or cooking up a storm…or knitting something bright and colorful….or on a beach, regardless of the weather. If you can’t find her at all, well, she has to get ideas for all those sexy stories somewhere.

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | INSTAGRAM

Wren hails from the frozen tundra of Wisconsin where beer and cheese are their own food groups. But a cowboy swept her off her feet and carried her below the Mason-Dixon line to Texas, where she promptly lost all tolerance for cold and snow. Fueled by coffee, dreams, and men in kilts, Wren promises to bring you laughter, sexy fun time, and action that keeps you on the edge of your seat. The easiest way to her heart is anything to do with the Green Bay Packers, Doctor Who, or Joss Whedon.

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | TSU

LeTeisha Newton: So I think this is the part where I’m supposed to say something super cool, win you over, and make you my life-long superfan…OR wait, is that how I am about my anime collection?

Probably.

Basically, I’m an author, blogger, geek, and villain lover (Joker IS MINE!). There shouldn’t be any surprise then that I tend to love my heroes a bit broken, all messed up, and in need of someone who understands them just the way they are.

Ha, my heroines are right there with them. You see, love is nice, it’s sweet. It can be all rainbows and glowing stars. And then it can be dark, twisted, hurtful, and feel so good you have to scream about it. So I write like that. From one side of the spectrum to the other, because that’s real. That’s life. And that’s what we crave–-delving into a fantasy world or not.

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | INSTAGRAM

Margaret Madigan: I write romance for Entangled Publishing and Evernight Publishing. I write and indie-publish romance and sci-fi through M&M Publishing.

I’m an Oregon Ducks fan.

I’m a donut and pastry addict (pretty much any carbs, really).

I like cats.

I’m terrified of balloons.

When I’m not writing you’ll find me in a college classroom teaching English and, of course, wrangling my family.

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | PINTEREST

Sadly, Amanda passed away July 2016. When she wasn’t plotting ways to sneak her latest shoe purchase past her partner, Amanda wrote sexy, snarky romance and urban fantasy. She liked her heroines smart and unafraid to make mistakes, and her heroes strong enough to take them on.

When she wasn’t writing, she was reading, drinking hot chocolate, and trying not to destroy her house with her newest DIY project. She lived in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, and no, it really doesn’t rain that much.

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER

Liv Rancourt: I write romance: m/f, m/m, and v/h, where the h is for human and the v is for vampire…or sometimes demon. I write funny. I don’t write angst. When I’m not writing I take care of tiny premature babies or teenagers, depending on whether I’m at home or at work. My husband is a soul of patience, my dog is the cutest thing evah(!), and we’re up to three ferrets.

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | NEWSLETTER

Join the NOLA Naughty Nin9 for their Release Day Party on Facebook

from 12pm to 9pm, CDT.

https://www.facebook.com/events/1066622816756695/

This week’s My Sexy Saturday theme is Here Comes Sexy. Always a good topic, but it seems especially appropriate because NOLA Naughty Nin9 is live on Monday 8/15! That’s a lot of sexy coming your way if you’ve pre-ordered the boxed set. And if you haven’t, what’s stopping you? It’s 99¢ for pre-order and release week. Nine sexy short romances, all set in the fabulous, sensual city of New Orleans. But why don’t I stop talking and do what My Sexy Saturday is all about? I’ll share a taste of my NN9 novella, “The Lion of Frenchman Street”. Here’s a little kinky foreplay:

I love this cover so much!

As the kiss continued, deepening and exploring, he raised the hand that rested on her ass. She braced herself, suspecting what was coming. Craving it at the same time she dreaded it.

She was right. The hand smacked her butt.

A jolt of bright pain shot through her, but it shimmered into heat and pleasure before her startled brain could catch up with her nerve endings.

He broke off the kiss long enough to ask, “Good?”

She made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a purr, then managed to articulate, “Yes.”

“I’m going to put a rope corset on you, tie you down, then spank you until your ass is so red and hot you can’t decide if you want to cry or come. Maybe both. I bet you like that idea.” She admired the way he did that. He’d put just enough question in the tone to make it clear she could protest if she needed to, but the words were a matter-of-fact statement, and that heightened the sense that he was in charge and would do with her what he wished.

Which was actually what they both wished—how this game was supposed to work.

As you can tell, plenty of sexy is on the way for Peter and Kelsey. (And for you if you wake up on Monday to find this collection waiting on your ereader.)

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My Sexy Saturday is a blog hop. Be sure to visit all the other participants! You’ll find more sweet and spicy tastes of New Orleans, as well as many other delicious tidbits.

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Blurb for “The Lion of Frenchman Street”: When saxophonist Peter Lyons invites New Orleans newcomer Kelsey into his world of jazz and kinky sex, his dominance ignites her body and his music speaks to her soul. But Peter’s hiding old pain and when Kelsey’s offered a job out of town, everything goes out of tune.

Book Blurb: Guilty pleasure. Perfect sin. New Orleans gets in your blood. Like sweet chocolate or a decadent bite. Ancient mysteries hide behind hidden doorways, and messy love happens in the dim bar lights of the French Quarter. Follow us through nine tales of love found through need, pain, desire, and inhuman temptations. Contemporary, paranormal, menage, or gender bending, we’ve got it all, in one perfect package. Just like the city itself.

Coming 8/15…and for preorder and release week, it’s just 99¢.

Buy Links: Amazon (all countries) / B&N / Kobo / iTunes

“It” would be Buck, Naked, the next in the Chronicles of the Malcolm series and my biggest indie project yet. I’m scared yet excited… I still have a ton to do before release day (on or near September 15–details TBD), but it feels real now. Like it’s a book that’s about to be published.

And since it now feels official (and I’ve had a few celebratory sips of a delightful whiskey-and-ginger-liqueur cocktail called an Ace of Spades so I’m starting to relax even more), I can let you all see the cover! It’s by the amazing Kanaxa, who did the covers for the first two books in the series.

If you’ve read the earlier books, you already know Buck’s messed up. Now I get to reveal all his secrets, and torture him even more than his past already has. Poor Buck!

To save him, she must strip him bare.
Security expert Buck’s senses are inhumanly keen, to the point he can see through time and space, and that’s just the start of his odd abilities—thank you, alien captors. He also experiences paranoia, flashbacks, and the occasional hallucination—thank you, PTSD. No wonder he fears he could hurt one of the crewmates he lives to protect, the closest thing to family he has left after the destruction of his home planet.
Brilliant scientist Aleema can teach him how to use his modifications without triggering  PTSD. She’s survived the same meddling aliens and suffered even more dramatic alterations. At least her unwanted immortality means she’s had time to figure out how the modifications work and use the knowledge to aid other survivors. Helping Buck means spending some serious time together. Time enough to fall in love.

Just as happiness seems within their grasp, Aleema realizes one of Buck’s modifications dooms him an unthinkable future. To save him, she must place her in the hands of their common enemy and leave Buck to face his worst fears without her.

Hello and welcome to My Sexy Saturday, a blog hop celebrating all things sexy and romantic. In the My Sexy Saturday blog hop, authors post 7 paragraphs, 7 sentences or even 7 scintillating words on a particular theme. This week’s theme is “Sexy Unleashed” and I’m offering a taste of “The Lion of Frenchman Street,” a novella focusing on jazz and kink, that will appear in the box set NOLA Naughty Nin9, releasing on 8/15.

There aren’t any actual leashes in this novella, but there’s a lot of rope and other restraints. How about some suspension bondage?

By the time he raised her off the floor, leaving her suspended face-up, lying as if she were on a bed, but held up only by a web of hemp, she felt like she was floating not only above the floor, but above herself and Peter. Rope and lust powered her flight, and curiosity acted as rocket fuel. Now that she was bound, helpless, slick with need, what would he do to her?

She imagined canes, whips, more clips and clamps…so many wonderful, awful possibilities.

Instead, he gave her a gentle push so she swung in the ropes as if she lazed in the world’s most erotic hammock, then turned down the light so it was almost dark in the room. He took three steps away and crouched down.

When he stood, he held his sax.

Blurb for “The Lion of Frenchman Street”: When saxophonist Peter Lyons invites New Orleans newcomer Kelsey into his world of jazz and kinky sex, his dominance ignites her body and his music speaks to her soul. But Peter’s hiding old pain and when Kelsey’s offered a job out of town, everything goes out of tune.

Book Blurb: Guilty pleasure. Perfect sin. New Orleans gets in your blood. Like sweet chocolate or a decadent bite. Ancient mysteries hide behind hidden doorways, and messy love happens in the dim bar lights of the French Quarter. Follow us through nine tales of love found through need, pain, desire, and inhuman temptations. Contemporary, paranormal, menage, or gender bending, we’ve got it all, in one perfect package. Just like the city itself.

Coming 8/15…and for preorder and release week, it’s just 99¢.

Buy Links: Amazon (all countries) / B&N / Kobo / iTunes

Guilty pleasure. Perfect Sin.

New Orleans gets in your blood. Like sweet chocolate or a decadent bite. Ancient mysteries hide behind hidden doorways, and messy love happens in the dim bar lights of the French Quarter. Follow us through nine tales of love found through need, pain, desire, and inhuman temptations. Contemporary, paranormal, menage, or gender bending, we’ve got it all, in one perfect package. Just like the city itself.

9 Erotic Romance Tales in the Big Easy

Pre-Order now for only $0.99 at an e-tailer near you!

Amazon US| Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo

Bayou Shadows by Erzabet Bishop
Voodoo dreams and buried lies bring Delia to New Orleans. A sexy shifter with secrets of his own might just get her to stay…

Sultry by Amanda Byrnes
Ash is really fuckin’ tired of being a virgin. Rory’s suddenly got an urge to seduce him. But can their friendship survive?

Sinfully Hot by Tina Donahue
A hotter-than-sin reaper. A badass demon. Hell doesn’t get steamier than this.

Playing with Fire by Margaret Madigan
When Vlad Golakov is sent to New Orleans to find a missing woman, he plans to get the job done quickly, then enjoy the Big Easy. He doesn’t expect to fall in love with the woman-turned-werewolf or teach the pack’s alpha that when you play with fire, you’re bound to get burned.

Creole Corsair by Wren Michaels
Sabine Chauvet needs closure on her family’s past. But when she runs into Jasper Carrington, her old high school crush, the one thing in her past she wasn’t searching for finds her instead.

Phenomenal by LeTeisha Newton
We all lose, and it snatches our souls right out our chests. When I lost her, I wanted to destroy the world with the same bloody hands I used to pound my enemies. When I win her back, she won’t get away again. I’ll risk my life for it.

Change of Heart by Liv Rancourt
Preacher always said New Orleans was a den of sin, so of course Clarabelle had to see for herself…

An Evening at Crossroads by Kate Richards
They broke every taboo, an ancient vampire, an exotic shifter on the run sharing gay romance under the roof of the newest and most daring club in New Orleans

Lion of Frenchman Street by Teresa Noelle Roberts
When saxophonist Peter Lyons invites New Orleans newcomer Kelsey into his world of jazz and kinky sex, his dominance ignites her body and his music speaks to her soul. But Peter’s hiding old pain and when Kelsey’s offered a job out of town, everything goes out of tune.

Amazon US| Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo

(A great deal of this post is a reprise from 2014.)

Rain, or lack thereof, is always an issue for gardeners and farmers. People who don’t garden as seriously as I do revel in two summer weeks without a cloud in the sky, but I’m panicking and raising my water bill dramatically. Real farmers, people who rely on their crops for a living, experience this feeling a thousandfold.

Imagine what concern a dry spell must have caused in a time and place entirely dependent on foods grown on local small farms, a time and a place with no faucets and water supplies pumped in from miles away, just primitive irrigation and water-storage technology.

The Summer Solstice is approaching in the Northern Hemisphere. It’s one of my favorite holy days of the pagan year, and one of my favorite times of year in general: a celebration of light and abundance and sexuality and the fruits of the land. It’s the longest day of the year, marking the first official day of summer…and the fact that from now on, the days get shorter even as the heat gets stronger and lettuce and strawberries give way to tomatoes and peaches. The Summer Solstice is also our wedding anniversary. (About the only traditional thing about our wedding was that it took place in June, and that’s harking back to a seemingly ancient tradition of weddings at Midsummer as well as to contemporary paganism’s association of the day with the marriage of the Lord and Lady.) Conveniently, the actual moment of the Solstice this year is 12:24 AM on June 21, which gives us an excuse to stay up late celebrating and to celebrate over the course of two days. Actually 3 days because we only could get the reservation at our favorite restaurant on June 22–it’s that popular!

With the approaching Summer Solstice in mind, it seems natural to highlight one of my backlist titles, Rain at Midsummer (Seasons of Sorania Cycle 2). Like many of my books, this fantasy romance involves sex-magic, and love-magic, and healing. In this case, you can probably guess the function of the sex-magic…but maybe not the details of the story. I write a great deal about consensual slavery, BDSM-style. This book involves nonconsensual slavery. The heroine escapes a cruel master – and then needs to learn what to do with a freedom she never expected and what role she can play in a society very different from the one she grew up in. The hero is a free man trapped in a role he never chose.

Can they find true freedom together?

Of course there’s also and smoking-hot sex and some meddling deities. But at core, it’s about the nature of liberty.

An escaped slave daunted by freedom. A nobleman fighting his destined birthright. Their love defies logic, but when the spirits of the land speak, you’d better listen.

Nikos curses the day his brother died and left him as Lord of Thermanae. What’s an educated man to do in a place so backward his tenants expect the Lord and Lady of the estate to bring rain through sex-magic? Jaenna, a runaway Kulchu slave, curses the fate that forced her to flee a murderous master to the neighboring Soranian Empire. Freedom means frightening choices for a woman whose entire life has been spent serving men’s sexual whims, and she can’t communicate with the spirits of the land enough to work the healing magic that might earn her a respectable place here.

The forbidden desire that burns between Nikos and Jaenna could save them both, if they see beyond what they think they know. But it takes desperate need—and advice from a madwoman who may be crazy like a fox—for Nikos to see that magic isn’t merely a metaphor and Jaenna to learn that love is the most powerful magic of all.

Excerpt (a bit racy, yet showing the theme):

“Let me try.” Dela’s Kulchu was as good as his; given the long tug-of-war over the territory, most Thelanese were bilingual. But if there was a Kulchu woman in there, she was likely to respond to a male voice of authority. Nomad women were raised that way.
“Come out, woman,” he said. That should work even better if it was a man in there. He’d come out bristling, eager to prove his manliness.
And since Dela was a bit closer, she’d be the one to hand him his balls. Pure comedy.
“Ha Khairi,” a small, nervous female voice responded. Yes, Master.
The girl who crawled out from under the bush was covered with dust, her hair so matted and dusty he could hardly tell the color. Dark, he thought, but how dark he couldn’t say. She was wearing fragments of something scarlet that must have been skimpy even when it was intact—it might have passed for a shortish underq’misa in civilized parts. She looked like she’d been sleeping rough without any kind of preparation or training for it, and she was visibly shaking and darting terrified looks from him to Dela and back again as if they were monsters with three heads.
And despite all that, she was beautiful.
Big dark eyes. Tall, as Kulchu often were, almost as tall as Nikos himself, but delicately and elegantly built. Well-muscled legs, high, full breasts, round hips: the kind of beauty that could drive a man to despair or heaven. Cleaned up, she’d be lethal.
A few more wild looks and then she sank to the ground. For an instant he thought she was fainting, and reached out to catch her.
But in a controlled movement marred by only a little swaying, she knelt before him on the rocky ground, stretching out on the ground to almost touch his boot in gesture of submission so graceful it made him ache inside, ache with pity and something else he didn’t want to examine.
She was a slave.
A woman who for years—from birth, for all he knew—had been trained for nothing other than pleasing and pampering and taking care of a man, trained to follow orders and not think too hard.
The pleasing part was, well, dangerously pleasing. It was all too easy to imagine the tatterdemalion figure cleaned up, wearing a few choice jewels and nothing much else, applying that particular intensive education to him. He was only human, and the gods hadn’t made humans to be celibate for nearly as long as he had been.
The rest moved him to an uneasy mix of disgust and compassion. It made him sad enough that his mother was a ghost among the living since his father died, unable to rise above her sorrow, unable to see that there was a life for her without her husband in it. It had gotten worse since his brother and sister had died within the same year. And his mother was a physician, a woman who’d been respected in her own right, not only as the Lord’s wife. A slave, a woman raised to be completely dependent on male whims, seemed a thousand times sadder to him, a thousand times more backward than the Thelanese traditions he found depressing enough.
Sarakia [his maybe-fiancee] was nothing like that. She was a thoroughly modern, cosmopolitan woman. Had her own friends, had her work in her family’s spice-trading firm, would certainly be sad if something happened to whatever lucky man she ended up marrying, but would go on with her life. And certainly wouldn’t make a fool of herself kneeling to a man.
Which, Nikos’ cock took chose that instant to remind him, was a pity. You wouldn’t want a woman to spend her whole life on her knees, but sometimes a woman kneeling in front of you could be fun for all concerned.

Buy Links: Amazon / B & N/ Phaze

In the My Sexy Saturday blog hop, authors post 7 paragraphs, 7 sentences or even 7 scintillating words on a particular theme. This week’s theme   is “My Sexy Spaceship.” How could I resist sharing a snippet from Thrill-Kinky, the first in my science fiction romance series “Chronicles of the Malcolm“? I couldn’t, of course. I’m not very good at resisting temptation. Here’s a scene when our hero and heroine are stealing private time before going into a potentially deadly situation.

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Drax kissed his way down her body, reveling in the hard muscles under her soft skin. A lot of spacers got a bit flabby, since there was no need to move around much on a spaceship and there often wasn’t space for a gym onboard, but Rita seemed to take the conditions as a challenge and then met the challenge. He appreciated that more than he was taking the time to show, because the smell of her arousal was driving him crazy and he couldn’t bring himself to linger.

He ended up sprawling off the bunk and onto the floor. Not the world’s most comfortable position, but it didn’t matter because his head was between Rita’s strong thighs and she was pushing her hips up to bring her sex closer to his tongue. He tucked his hands under her ass, raised her to his mouth, and before long he was getting drunk on her heated musk, on her soft cries, on her spicy tang. “I was so anxious, thinking about tonight, but so hot thinking about climbing that building, and how much better it would be if you could meet me on the roof, and I’m going to…” She broke off in a moan, her hips rolling, pushing her sex against his questing lips and tongue. He moved one hand from under her buttocks, slipped a finger, then two fingers, inside her sex. Wind and stars, she was gripping, but at the same time, so slick and open. His cock ached, yearning to be where his fingers were. He flicked with his tongue as he fucked her with his hand. Suddenly she stiffened, convulsed around him, crying out something that started out as his name and wound up as a ragged wail.

Rita was still shaking when she tugged on him and said, simply, “Please. Now.”

He held himself over her for a second before he ended. Her green eyes were wide, the blackness of the pupils almost overtaking the color. She looked a little afraid, and very turned on despite the fear, and Drax said, “You are so beautiful,” because she was and she deserved to hear it. She’d always deserve to hear it, especially now, because thrill-kinky was one thing and deliberately heading into potentially life-ending danger to help his planet was another.

His heart was weighted with emotions he couldn’t name, and Rita’s eyes said hers was too, but all she said was “So are you.”

Then she wrapped one leg around his hips and pulled him down and the hot, wet nebula of her sex drew him in, and it became impossible to think about anything except the fusion of his cock and her pussy. He tried to take his time, but it felt too good and she had both legs around him now and obviously didn’t want him to take his time because she had a rhythm of her own going, a rhythm that was much closer to what his body craved than the slower pace he thought he should set for his partner’s sake. As he’d imagined, she moved under him, fucking him as much as he fucked her, using the impressive strength of her deceptively slight body. Before long, they’d found their pace, one that might leave him aching in funny places, assuming he lived long enough to find out.

And the hell with worrying one way or the other about that possibility. Time enough to think about that when he had detangled himself from Rita’s sweet, sexy body. Right now he was as alive as he could be and so was she, and right now was all anyone was promised, even nashbets who sat on their fat asses in offices and never risked their hearts, let alone their lives.

Buy Links: Samhain / Amazon / B&N / Kobo /All Romance eBooks / iBooks (iTunes)

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Don’t forget to visit the other blog hop authors!

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Hope you enjoyed! By the way, I’m working on revisions to Buck, Naked, book 3 of the Chronicles of the Malcolm  series. I don’t have a release date yet other than “late summer or early fall”, but I have a gorgeous cover that I’ll be showing you all soon.

I posted early in the year about feeling as though I was coming back to life, recovering myself again. I was perhaps premature in that assessment. I went through a lot of ups and down, bouts of writing fiercely and bouts of staring into space and wondering if it was even worth the effort. Yet I was writing, and even started a new project. I had a regular yoga practice again. I felt less than my best, but not my worst either. Drive came out on February 9 to good reviews and I started to believe again that maybe the struggle and financial challenges of writing were worthwhile.

On February 26, Samhain, the publisher of Drive and the wonderful folks I’ve been working with since 2009, announced it would no longer accept new titles and was gradually shutting down.

I’m sure even Samhain authors who’d been in perfectly good health before this news were thrown for a loop. Considering I was just getting out of a slump, the resulting panic and paralysis weren’t pretty.

In one way, this terrible news was good for me. It was the final push that got me to get medical help for the ongoing depression and anxiety. Nothing says, “OK, it’s time, damn it” like having an external reason to be depressed and anxious on top of being that way because of screwed-up brain chemistry.

And it was screwed-up brain chemistry, because a mild medication started helping almost immediately. Who knew? With a stroke of good fortune, I found a therapist–chosen more or less at random because her office was in walking distance–who specializes in holistic, mind/body techniques. She actually prescribed meditation and a regular yoga practice, as well as time outside. It’s like she knows me or something.

Me on Ogunquit Beach in Maine, April 2016

So what’s different? I’m now close to my old insane energy level. (The therapist has been trying to teach me to take it easy. I’ve had to explain that one of my goals is to be a workaholic and enjoy it again instead of working too hard on the wrong things, not getting anywhere because I can’t get out of my own way to actually create, and feeling miserable as a result.) I’m waking up in the morning full of ideas and going to bed full of a different, naughty sort of energy. I have so many books in my head that the only problem is deciding which ones to start after I finish Buck, Naked, the next Chronicles of the Malcolm book. (I’ll be indie pubbing it. I’m terrified and overwhelmed by all the new stuff I need to learn, but I’m able to see past the fear to possibilities.) And I’m finding fierce joy in all sorts of things. I think I went most of last year without feeling that kind of random joy, but now it seems to happen all the time. Flavors. Textures. Light. Scents. The play of words. For instance, in the middle of writing this post, I ran outside to photograph the sky at dusk (sadly it didn’t come out well) and stood there enthralled by the sky, the birdsong, the green scent of spring air. We vacationed in Maine in April–that’s where I took the pictures above. Not the best time to go to Maine, you’d think, but the wild waves sang to me, the woods were full of awakening life, the cold-water lobster was exquisite, and my husband and I found magic everywhere.

Including in each other. Let’s just say it was a nice hotel room, shall we?

I’m not the only member of the family who’s shed some issues. Tinkerbelle the cat has also taken enormous strides. When we adopted her, she was so timid and so bullied by our other cats, especially Xia, I thought several times of trying to rehome her, perhaps to some quiet older people with no other pets. Recently, though, she’s gone from being the basement cat to being a lap and desk cat who’ll sometimes instigate a ruckus with Xia instead of letting herself be pushed around. I’m so proud of my little black and white girl! Maybe she’s been sneaking some of my meds when I was busy writing.

Here’s Tinkerbelle in her desk cat role. Holding down all that paper is an important job! She “edits” for me too.

Earlier in the week, science fiction romance author Rebecca Airies stopped by with excerpts from her new release Sabotaged Desires. Now she’s back with a special treat for us: a character interview with Robert, one of the heroes.

I’d like to introduce you to Robert Smith one of Susanne Lore’s two husbands. Lucky girl, right?

Blurb:

Suz Lore thought she had everything she wanted, a job as an engineer and a position on a colony ship headed to another planet. That was before her arranged ménage marriage with Robert Smith and David Bradford turned into a disaster. She’d thought they were building more than a sizzling sexual relationship, but all they do is argue now. She isn’t surprised when they’re sequestered in a room in order to reignite the passion between them and learn to trust again.

Robert believes she betrayed him while David is stuck in the middle of their conflict. Getting Robert to talk about what made him angry is difficult, but they discover there’s far more behind their problems than a message with misleading information. A virus has overtaken the ship’s computers, put them on a different heading and cut them off from all communication. They must work together to find a way to survive and rebuild their relationship

Link: http://www.eredsage.com/store/SabotagedDesires.html

Character Interview

Robert: Yeah, Susanne might not be in agreement with you right at this moment about the lucky part.

Q: We’ll get to that in time Robert.  So tell me about yourself, your parents, your childhood.

Robert:  This is an interview not a life story. We don’t have time for that. I’m Robert Smith, Captain of the Heraste, a colony ship headed for Ahbell.  I’m an only child. My parents are normal people with good jobs in the private sector.

Q: Where do you live?

Robert: Currently, we’re on the Herasti, a space ship. I have private quarters that I share with David and Susanne when we’re on duty. On the rotations we’re not on duty, we’re in cryo-sleep so the space isn’t needed.

Q: How did you get together with Susanne and David?

Robert: It was an arranged marriage. We were matched from psychological tests. I’d never met either of them before the day we were married.

Q: Did you always want to be a Captain? Was that your dream job?

Robert shakes his head: No, I didn’t dream of becoming a Captain. When I joined the military, I joined for the opportunity of advancement both in the military and after. Testing determined what courses I took and the ranks I achieved. I had an aptitude for flying as well as drawing and sketching. I took design courses, but those courses took a back burner when I began serving on missions. I almost couldn’t believe it when I was chosen as one of the candidates for the colony mission to Ahbell.

Q: You said you designed. Will that be part of your responsibilities on the planet?

Robert: Yes, I’ll help design the houses, but I’ll also be building them. In the colony, we cannot have someone who is standing to the side simply watching. Everyone has to contribute.

Q: Were you attracted to Susanne when you first met her?

Robert: Yes, I was very attracted to her. I didn’t expect the heat that rose between us to come from someone I was assigned to marry.

Q: You mentioned that Susanne might not think that she’s lucky to be married to you. Can you explain?

Robert: We’ve been arguing, almost steadily for the last few days. I think she lied and cheated her way into this position. I’m so angry over the betrayal that we haven’t actually talked much.

Q: Do you think you’re being too hard on her? Especially given what happens a little later.

Robert: Given what happens later, yes, I probably should have listened before, but my history kept me from being logical about it. And no, I don’t want to explain it.

Q: What’s important to you?

This mission, the people I’m responsible for, David and Susanne.

Thank you for reading about Robert!

Thank you so much for allowing me to share a little about one of the characters in Sabotaged Desires! I enjoyed sharing a little about this rather grumpy captain with you.

Bio:

A voracious reader since childhood, Rebecca Airies has always enjoyed getting lost in the fantastic worlds of science fiction, horror, fantasy and romance. When she began to write her own stories, they always had a romantic edge.

Rebecca currently lives in Texas and writes with the help of a couple feline critics. She’s a multi-published author whose muse loves fantasy, sci-fi and the paranormal, as well as strong heroines who are sometimes as stubborn as their heroes. She loves to here from her readers. Email her at contactme@rebeccaairies.net.

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Some day soon I promise I’ll post something that isn’t a guest post from another author, but in the meantime, we have another visitor. Let’s welcome Rebecca Airies and her new book Sabotaged Desires, a sexy science fiction ménage romance.

Hi, thank you so much for hosting me. I’m so excited to be here.

(And I’m excited to have you here. This book sounds so fun!)

Blurb:

Suz Lore thought she had everything she wanted, a job as an engineer and a position on a colony ship headed to another planet. That was before her arranged ménage marriage with Robert Smith and David Bradford turned into a disaster. She’d thought they were building more than a sizzling sexual relationship, but all they do is argue now. She isn’t surprised when they’re sequestered in a room in order to reignite the passion between them and learn to trust again.

Robert believes she betrayed him while David is stuck in the middle of their conflict. Getting Robert to talk about what made him angry is difficult, but they discover there’s far more behind their problems than a message with misleading information. A virus has overtaken the ship’s computers, put them on a different heading and cut them off from all communication. They must work together to find a way to survive and rebuild their relationship

Red Sage Buy Link: http://www.eredsage.com/store/SabotagedDesires.html

Note from the hostess: I’m including both a PG excerpt that gives some idea of the plot and a naughty one because it’s hot and we like naughty bits around here.

PG excerpt:

“Get your ass to the hatch and let us out now,” Robert yelled.

Ever the demanding Captain. Robert expected people to follow his orders immediately.  He’d behaved like an ass lately. That arrogance set her nerves on edge. His tendency to bark out commands even when on personal time made her want to rebel or strike out at him.

The argument hadn’t stayed within the confines of their quarters. Suz didn’t know how he was surprised that they’d been placed here. At the moment, his yelling was getting on her nerves.

“They won’t let us out. Not until they’re convinced our problems are solved.” She eased to the edge of the big bed. At least, she wasn’t nauseous from coming out of stasis or have a headache any longer.

David strode to the side of the bed, sat beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. “Are you all right?”

His dark blond hair stuck up in spikes, looking delightfully mussed. She only wished she’d been the one to run her fingers through it. Concern turned the corners of his full lips down. His muscled chest was bare offering yet another lure for exploration and he wore only loose, light blue pants which most men chose to wear into the stasis pods.

“The pain has faded. I sort of expected this after our last rotation, although waking up from stasis in this room scared me and for a little while, I didn’t realize what had happened.” She relaxed against the strength of his arm for a moment. Normally, they were left in the open cryopods until they were able to walk. She’d almost panicked when she woke here. Her heart had felt as if it were going to burst through her chest.

The feel of his muscled body against hers soothed a little of the tension and worry. Between David and her, they would find a way to get through to Robert. Even though they couldn’t get out, she didn’t fool herself that this would be easy.

“So did I. I think he’s the only one who thought things could go on as they were.” David smiled and used his free hand to brush the silver blond hair away from her face.

“They should stay out of our business.” Robert glared at her.

His dark brown eyes moved from her to David. He didn’t look mussed or even sleepy as David did, but then again, his close-cropped black hair always seemed to be in perfect order. The dark brown skin of his chest gleamed. Her eyes hungrily trailed over the expanse and down to the white shorts at his waist. Even though anger pulsed through her at his stubbornness, she hungered for his touch. Her body remembered the pleasure he’d given her.

“Our business is everyone’s concern. We’re on a colony ship. There are only married groups here. There aren’t extra women and men and our group will be the only people on the planet until more colonists are sent, which could be years. The crap you’ve been doing can’t continue.” David straightened a little and his eyes locked on Robert.

R Excerpt:

Susanne looked up at him and blinked. The light tone of voice and the glitter in his eyes caught her attention. It had been a while since they’d played. Before Robert had received the message in fact. She craved the feel of David’s arms around her again.

“With all the tension, it’s been too long since I’ve felt you holding me tight. I’m sorry you were stuck in the middle of this situation.” She combed her fingers through his blond hair.

“Suz, not your fault. If he’d simply sat down with you, showed you the message and asked a question in a civil manner, this wouldn’t have happened. You tried to explain. Now, stop thinking about that and help me give him something to watch.” He drew back. His hands gripped the bottom of his shirt. He gave her a wicked smile before he whipped the sleeveless garment over his head.

She took a deep breath, let herself relax and follow his lead. “Tell me one of your fantasies and let’s make it come as true as we can in this room.”

“This situation is already close to one of them.” He guided her around the bed. “I’ve got you and Robert and a possible audience.”

“Um, that sounds fun, but tell me more about it.” She stopped and turned at the edge of the bed. Her hands lifted and stroked over his shoulders.

“I plan to strip you naked and spread you out on this bed. There are cameras in this room. What do you think of someone watching as I tease this pretty pussy or suck at one of these gorgeous breasts.” His voice lowered a little below his normal tone, but sounded breathier.

As he eased closer, his lips brushed over her temple. His hand cupped her pussy through the thin lounge pants. Her tongue slicked over her lips. Slick juices eased from her pussy and dampened her pants. The dirty talk always made her so hot. He knew that. The man shamelessly took advantage of it.

“I say let them watch and if they’re smart, they’ll take notes.” She pulled her shirt over her head. The light blue fabric fluttered to the ground.

A smile curved his lips. He laughed and leaned in close. His tongue traced over her neck. She tilted her head, willing to let him play for a while before she called on him to follow through with his fantasy.

“Damn it! Intimate moment, give us some privacy. I don’t want anyone seeing either of you in a private moment.” Robert straightened and glanced up at the ceiling.

“Relax, Robert. You know as well as I do that at the first sign of any nudity between us, they’ll cut off the recording. We have to go over and contact them to get it started again. They don’t have any intention to intrude any more than you’d like them to watch.” David shook his head. “You do know how to kill a mood.”

“He hasn’t killed my mood. We still have an audience, even if it is only one person.” Suz cupped his cheek before she urged his head upward for a kiss.

He nibbled her lips. “Yes, and even if seeing us makes him burn, he has to sit there and watch. He doesn’t get to play until he comes up with the right questions.”

She let her hands drift over his shoulders and down his chest. The warmth of his skin drew her to explore even more. She leaned closer. Her cheek brushed against his chest as she nuzzled and teased. His scent filled her, the slightly woodsy trace exhilarating. She loved it and didn’t know if the fragrance came from some type of wash or light cologne, but he always smelled wonderful.

“Um, but you know he likes to watch. Do you remember the first time he watched? He sat naked in that chair, his hand slowly stroking his cock as you and I fucked on the bed.” She slowly drew her hands over his ribs down to his stomach. The muscles rippled and flexed as she continued her downward path.

She hooked her fingers beneath the waistband. Those pants had to come off. Although they were loose, they were in the way. She much preferred the tighter pants he wore normally. They molded to the tight ass she enjoyed watching, not to mention grabbing when they had sex.

“I remember, but I also remember how desperate he was afterward. I think it might give him a reason to adjust his thinking.” David’s hands cupped underneath the full curves of her breasts, lifting them.

“Um, then let’s give him something to watch.” She pushed the loose fitting bottoms down his thighs.

Bio:

A voracious reader since childhood, Rebecca Airies has always enjoyed getting lost in the fantastic worlds of science fiction, horror, fantasy and romance. When she began to write her own stories, they always had a romantic edge.

Rebecca currently lives in Texas and writes with the help of a couple feline critics. She’s a multi-published author whose muse loves fantasy, sci-fi and the paranormal, as well as strong heroines who are sometimes as stubborn as their heroes. She loves to here from her readers. Email her at contactme@rebeccaairies.net.

 Social Media Links

Website: www.rebeccaairies.net

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RebeccaAiries

Facebook Page:  www.facebook.com/RebeccaAiriesAuthor?ref=hl

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/115909284303775689058/posts

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Blog: http://rebeccaslair.blogspot.com/

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Erato, Muse of Lyrical Poetry (1800). Charles Meynier (French, 1768-1832). Oil on canvas. The Cleveland Museum of Art. Note the “tasteful” 19th century adaptation of her title: lyric instead of erotic.

Erotic poetry is hardly a new genre. Erato, one of the ancient Greeks’ nine Muses, was the goddess of erotic poetry. (She was also the goddess of erotic mime, which sounds a lot more interesting than the typical modern street performer’s version of mime.) I’ve written a bit of it myself over the years.

Kayla Lords, an erotica author, sex blogger, podcaster, real-life submissive (and all-around lovely person) has turned her talents to Erato’s inspiration and recently released a book of erotic poems — kinky erotic poems. Called Kinky Love Notes: Erotic Poetry for Dominants and Submissives, it sounds like the perfect anniversary gift for your special (kinky) someone. Hey, our anniversary’s coming up! Naked read-alouds, anyone? I think it sounds good.

About Kinky Love Notes

Pictures are often painted with words. Lust, love, desire, and kink are no exception. Instead of lines and lines of prose to express need and want, Kayla Lords uses simple poetry. Within these pages, you’ll find haikus, couplets, and free verse with one thing in common: notes of the sensuous pleasure, kinky fun, and power exchange found between a Dominant and a submissive.

Excerpt 1 from Kinky Love Notes

The Things You Do To Me

Waiting patiently
For you. Hot and wet, dripping.
Anticipating.

You make me feel things
In every nerve ending.
Don’t stop. Give me more.

You belong to me.
The taste of you imprinted
On my tongue always.

Excerpt from Kinky Love Notes – the NSFW Option

Please, Sir?

Collar me,
Cuff me,
Restrain me,
Blindfold me,
Want me.
Please, Sir?

Spank me,
Paddle me,
Flog me,
Bruise me,
Mark me.
Please, Sir?

Bite me,
Finger me,
Fuck me,
Take me,
Use me.
Please, Sir?

Stroke me,
Hold me,
Kiss me,
Soothe me,
Love me.
Please, Sir?

Kinky Love Notes: Erotic Poetry for Dominants and Submissives

Written and Published by Kayla Lords

Release Date: April 14, 2016

Ebook price: $2.99

Paperback price: $6.99 (coming soon!)

Purchase Links

Amazon: http://mybook.to/KLN

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1qkrscT

iBooks: http://apple.co/1qLwQGN

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/1Q3LtJL

Kayla Lords Bio

Kayla Lords is a kinky submissive, an erotic author, a sex blogger, and a podcaster. She writes about BDSM and kink from a loving and realistic view. This is her first book of poetry, erotic or otherwise. She also is a regular contributor to Kinkly, Fetish.com, Fuck.com, and Submissive Guide.

Follow Kayla Lords

Website: http://kaylalords.com

Amazon: http://author.to/KaylaLords

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/KaylaLords

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KaylaLordsAuthor

Google+: http://plus.google.com/+KaylaLords

Tumblr: http://a-sexual-being.tumblr.com

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/kaylalords1/