Here's a heads up on The Romance Reviews First Anniversary Party. There will be lots of authors particpating, including me, and great contests, so stay tuned for more information. I'll keep you posted.
Miranda Lake is here and she's sharing an excerpt from her book, TheInitiate. The story, set in a mythical, medieval world, has a wonderful, highly erotic plot. Enjoy! Blurb:
The Lady Hysena Macarydias, teenage daughter of the most noble house of Qalle, finds her illusion of how life will be as an Initiate at the formidable Citadel utterly shattered.
The excesses of Father Tarrip, High Priest of the Holy Prophet , would be beyond the endurance of the terrified girls in his charge were it not for the efforts of Sister Maria, who as an Adept of the secretive and forbidden Society of T’arn, is able to control him – but only to a degree.
But Maria has concerns beyond the fate of the pampered young ladies of Qalle aristocracy; the delicately balanced peace between the warring nations is under threat, and the very future of the planet may be in her hands.
The struggle for control of Qalle is a secret one, known to only a few. Caught between the opposing factions are the innocent Initiates: Hysena, the beautiful, intelligent yet naive Lady; Jagdig, the formidable warrior girl of Kallinia; plump Princess Leel of Calith; tiny, demure Silka of Sis Narash and the others.
And, somewhere within the sprawling walls and forbidding towers of the ancient Citadel, are the Acolytes, male counterparts to the Initiates, who in the timeless manner of young men everywhere will undertake any risk if it may result in the chance to meet young women, even if that risk may result in disaster...
The world of Qalle is a world of cruelty, of pain, of punishment. A world of plot, counter-plot and intrigue, but which still allows time enough for love, tenderness and yearning desire.
First published some years ago, The Initiate by Miranda Lake is now available in downloadable form for the first time – one of the most erotic novels to be published this century.
Excerpt:
Xarrith was right, he reflected. Risk did make the blood sing, but what risk! He did not know what punishment would follow discovery on such an adventure, but had not been joking when he suggested to Xarrith that he feared for their very survival. His researches into the Citadel had offered hints of people entering the forbidding walls never to be seen or heard of again. Was a few hours of ecstasy worth possible death? As he watched the taller of the two naked girls, now lying on her back with her legs held high and wide by the one with the magnificent breasts and the holy sister bringing the tokan down directly on her spread vagina, he almost thought that it was.
As she plied the tokan between the open legs of Nephraan and heard her shrill scream as the whippy leather bit into her swollen labia, Sister Colya was wondering whether to order one (or both!) of the Initiates to lick her soaking cunt. With a grimace, she decided against this, knowing from experience that, while all of them would do this delightful service for each other, they hated to do it for their sister elder. Or at least this sister elder. She suspected that they showed no such reticence with Maria and felt a bitter pang of envy at the thought, bringing the tokan down with all her strength in her frustration.
Nephraan screamed even louder as the cruel device once again bit into her exposed sex.
The sound of the scream came clearly through the wall to the ears of the fascinated Tasnar. Unlike Xarrith who had seen punishments carried out on his people at home, in Sis Narash the though of treating another person in such a barbaric manner was anathema. He found the sight deeply shocking but even more exciting. Once again he applied his eye to the small hole in the ancient wall.
I'm excited to have a Siren Sister here today. Zoey Marcel is talking about werewolves, my favorite characters. And she's sharing an excerpt from her new paranormal, erotic romance – WRESTLING WITH TEMPTATION. Enjoy!
****
Thank you for having me here, Gale! I'm very excited about my book, WrestlingWith Temptation. I love werewolves because they combine my favorite animal with men. Lol It's a great combination.
I’ve done a lot of reading on wolves since they fascinate me so much and I wanted to have the story set in Wyoming since I’ve been there before. I decided to have it take place in Temptation, a fictitious town just outside of Jackson Hole.
I don’t really know how I got the plot for the story. I just knew I wanted some weird paranormal stuff in it. I remember researching the Grim Reaper and the death angel thinking that would make a good villain. I also had to research banshees, harpies and dire wolves since there’s some of that in there too. Of course where information was limited I simply inserted my weird imagination into the gaps.
The characters were fun to write with their quirks and the closeness of the pack, despite their differences. Some of them are tormented by their pasts, but I find the psychological exploration
[Ménage and More: Erotic Paranormal Ménage Romance, M/F/M/M/M, with M/M, werewolves, dubious consent, public exhibition, voyeurism, BDSM, spanking, sex toys, caning, fetish, sex in shifted form]
Morrigan, a resurrected banshee, is attacked by a harpy and saved by two werewolves. Jack is the eccentric alpha and Mark is his handsome beta. They invite her to stay with them on their ranch in Wyoming for protection. She meets two more werewolves, Quinn and Damon, who are lovers. Her mates introduce her to the world of BDSM and act as her guardians to protect her from the forces of evil that are after her.
Jack is torn between his love for Morrigan and the mission hell sent him on—to drag her to the underworld where Death can claim the woman who escaped him. Jack's heart forbids it, but Death has others in line to kill her and eternal punishment in store for Jack if he goes rogue.
The pack must overcome their differences and band together if they are to protect Morrigan and redeem their soulless alpha.
ADULT EXCERPT
Morrigan moaned when his palms slid down to cup the material covering her breasts. They tightened almost painfully beneath his indulgent touch. His wandering hands said he burned for her. His mouth said he wanted her.
Devilishly handsome Jack wanted boring, heartbroken, little Morrigan.
She pulled back before his hands could venture into the V of her robe to touch her chest. She had to stop this while she still had an ounce of sanity and willpower left to cling to. “We can’t.”
“Why not?” He reached for the tie on her robe, but she lightly grabbed his hand to stop him.
“It’s not fair to you guys. You’re both sexy as sin. You can have any woman you want.”
“We want you,” said Mark.
“Why? Look at me.”
“We are.” Jack’s smile became suggestive as he guided her to the mirror. “Take a good, hard look at that breathtaking face.”
“Oh, it’s breathtaking, all right,” she snorted in disgust, yelping when he swatted her fanny.
“I won’t stand for any insult directed at my mate. Say it. Say you’re beautiful.”
“But I’m not. Ow!” Her eyes narrowed when he slapped her buns again. “I can say it, but I won’t believe it.”
“Then you haven’t heard it enough,” Mark reasoned. “You need to hear it every day, because it’s true. You’re gorgeous, baby girl, and dead sexy.”
Her heart and eyes welled with joy over the adorable pet name he called her by. “Thank you both.”
Jack kissed her neck and dipped his hands down into her robe to cup her tits.
She sighed with contentment and pushed into his sizzling palms more.
“Mine,” he growled against her skin as he massaged her bosom.
Mark stepped forward and loosened the tie at her waist. “Ours.”
The robe fell open, exposing her frontal nudity to them. She felt vulnerable and somehow beautiful in this moment simply because they wanted her so badly and seemed to think she hung the moon.
Jack moved so Mark could push the robe down her shoulders. Their eyes devoured her nudity with obvious approval.
Mark seemed in a hurry to strip. “We’re clean, you know. Lycans can’t get diseases, but we have papers if you want proof. Or if it makes you feel better we can wear condoms.”
“I believe you, but I don’t really want to get pregnant.”
Jack appeared to have all the answers. “Banshees can’t get pregnant.”
“How did you know I was a banshee?”
He froze before collecting himself. “The scent.”
Mark looked at her in surprise. “You’re a banshee? I had no idea. How old are you?”
“Centuries.”
“Really? Me too.”
“If you don’t fuck her, Mark, I will,” Jack said impatiently.
“Sorry.” Mark drew her near and kissed her gently, intimately.
His kiss was every bit as stirring as Jack’s. Mark coaxed her surrender rather than demanded it like Jack, but both their methods undid her. His flaming shaft against her tummy had her feverish with lust for him.
“Get in the shower, you two. I want to sit and watch your naked bodies covered in mist and steam while you writhe against each other.” Jack’s timbre sounded husky and sensual.
They moaned at his naughty words as they carried out his command and stepped into the large shower together. Morrigan had jitters of nervousness and excitement in her tummy while she watched Mark turn on the water and adjust the temperature so it was nice and hot for them.
Jack turned the fan on and threw down some towels on the floor to catch any flyaway drops of water while the glass door was left open. He wanted a bird’s-eye view of their lovemaking.
A wall of steam rose up all around them as Mark stepped closer to her. “Are you nervous?”
“A little. It’s been a long time.”
“How long?”
“I haven’t been with anyone since the twelfth century.”
His eyes bugged out of his head. “Holy shit, why so long? Look at you. The guys should be lining up to do you.”
“I’ve been a banshee for most of my existence. I wasn’t able to make myself visible to people for the longest time without bringing about their death.”
“Wow, that sucks.”
Jack cleared his throat. “Do I need to come in there and show you two idiots how to fuck?”
Mark grinned. “I haven’t forgotten, but thanks.”
Morrigan blushed when she saw Jack unzip his fly and pull out his cock. It was so long and wide it was bound to be painful stretching her, especially since she hadn’t been penetrated in so long by anyone or anything.
Mark stood several inches taller than her, so he hoisted her up so her legs were wrapped around his hips and she was pinned against the slick wall. His erection was cradled snugly between their bodies and the sheer size and beauty of it impressed her when she summoned the courage to steal a glance at it.
His mouth was smoldering as he treated her to another kiss, this one more primal and intense. They moaned in bliss over the other’s personal flavor, breaths quick and shallow as their wicked hands indulged in a torrid exploration of their partner’s body.
His strong, chiseled physique awed her. The man looked flawless and ripped. She was in good shape herself, but his solid, masculine frame was enviable.
Jack’s scintillating tone briefly breached the heady spell they were under, reminding them that they were putting on a provocative show for this aroused voyeur. “Touch his cock, Morrigan.”
Her cunt dampened when she saw Jack’s erection pointing to high heaven from his lap. It was blushing like a juicy, red plum, betraying how ripe and ready for picking it was. She wanted to taste the fleshy meat and suck the juices clean out of it when she was done with Mark.
I'm excited to be hosting L.M. Brown as part of her Valentine's Day blog tour. She's here to talk about old legends and new releases. Enjoy! And don't forget to visit her blog and take part in the Valentine's Day Blog Hop Contest. You could win a copy of the Gift of Love Anthology.
And now here's L.M. Brown...
Welcome to the third day of my blog tour in celebration of Valentine’s Day and also my newly released Valentine’s Day themed short story.
Today I’m going to be taking a look at one of the old legends about Valentine’s Day itself, specifically the one that says that the first man a young girl sees upon leaving her house on February 14th will be her Valentine for the coming year.
It sounds a nice tradition, doesn’t it?
Imagine the anticipation of seeing a handsome young man as you stroll through your quaint little village.
But what if you have your sights and your heart set on one particular person?
How easy would it be to engineer your day so that you meet that man first?
In this modern day and age I expect it would be quite impossible.Seeing the milkman, postman and paperboy are just three of the possibilities before you even get off your own street. Then there may be taxi or bus drivers, and, of course, the random people going about their daily business, all conspiring to stop you seeing the potential love of your life (or at least the next year) first on Valentine’s Day. Of course, the devious members of the population might be able to tilt the odds in their favour with the aid of modern technology.If your potential Valentine is close by, a telephone call from a friend on the next street to let you know when your potential love interest is leaving their house could be the key.Then all you would have to do is make sure to hurry, not look round when you hear a neighbour’s door opening and feign a casual meeting.Voila – the tradition may just work in your favour.
Telephones are also the key to romance for the two heroes of my latest release, Nick and Connor.
Blurb
Can a wrong number lead to Mr Right? Nick Davis’s life takes an unexpected turn when a stranger starts leaving messages on his answer machine. Is there hope Nick can become more to Connor Hayes than just a wrong number?
Excerpt
Nick Davis stumbled from his bedroom into the kitchen, cringing at the bright sunlight of the January morning. He snapped the blinds down, causing him to simultaneously sigh with relief at the more subdued light and groan at the sound, which echoed far too loudly for his liking. Every step he took was careful and measured, so as not to make his aching head pound any more than necessary. He spared a glance at the blinking red light on the answering machine: a new message. Suspecting it to be a slightly belated Happy New Year greeting, and probably a loud one, Nick left it for the moment. He headed for the fridge and a hangover cure in the form of hair of the dog, also known as a nice cold beer.
Damn, what did I do last night? He remembered meeting his mates at The Red Lion for a night out on the town. They'd had a few drinks there before moving on to The Royal Oak. Then they'd headed out to the city, where things started to get a little hazy. He did recall Marc screaming Happy New Year down the phone at least an hour early, but midnight itself was a complete blank. He supposed he should be thankful he'd made it home in one piece, and hadn't woken up to find a strange man in his bed this morning.
After nursing his hangover until mid-afternoon Nick finally remembered the message and hit the play button. "Hey, baby! Happy New Year! Missing you already. I can't wait to see you again. Give me a call to let me know you got back safely. Love you."
Nick frowned at the answer machine. He didn't recognise the voice of the soft-spoken man on the other end of the phone. Chalking it up to someone too inebriated to dial correctly, he deleted the message and promptly forgot about it.
You can also enter a draw to win a copy of the anthology during the With Love, Valentine’s Day Blog Hop which is running on my blog from 11th February to 14th February.
Today my guest is Eliot Hastings. I just finished reading his BDSM novella, Forbidden Pleasures, Forgiven Desiresand loved it. This is one hot story and just the beginning of his series.
And now here's Eliot Hastings to tell you more about it...
I’ve been writing erotica for some time as a hobby but the advent of indie publishing spurred me into getting my work “out there.” My current project is Forbidden Pleasures, Forgiven Desires; it started out as a few short stories, some I had written years ago. I decided that I wanted to develop the relationship between the two main characters, and although most of the books are stories about other people, I also wanted to see Amanda and Kathryn at different stages of their lives. They appear in all of the books and we see them in Book one (to be published soon) enjoying life in their youthful way, full of excitement and discovery, to their relationships as they grow in the confidence and intensity of maturity. The remaining books in the series will be published this year.
I’m still enjoying the journey myself and hope the stories are an entertaining read. My next project is a full length political thriller with plenty of twists and turns, it’s in the planning and outline stage just now and the finished work should be ready early next year.
Peter was an assertive man, in complete control of his life and work. But in his closest relationships he was a natural submissive, and he had been searching for a dominant partner for as long as he could remember. Dissatisfied with his relationships, he had sought the services of a professional Mistress. Lisa enjoyed her work as a sadistic Dominatrix, exploiting his masochism and they soon became good friends. It seemed as if he had everything he needed, and his search was over. Then he met Suzy and fell in love with her, they were brought together by a quirk of fate. She had her own agenda, but there was something unspoken, something below the surface that drew them together, but would she love him? And if she did, would he be able to live a life denying his need to be dominated?
Eliot Hastings is a technical author and began writing short stories as a hobby some years ago. He is an engineering graduate and lives in Warwickshire, his interests include Architecture and History and he considers himself lucky to live in a country steeped in history. It allows him to follow two of his favourite hobbies which are photography and visiting historic buildings and Cathedrals. Eliot is into motor sports and music and he is a regular at race meetings and gigs up and down the country.
Today Xavier Axelson is here to talk about his newest release, Lily, a MM paranormal. He's sharing an excerpt below. Enjoy!
Xavier is a writer of erotica for Silver Publishing and Seventh Window Publications.
He is also the Los Angeles Sex Advice Columnist for Examiner.com, contributes regularly to Queer Magazine Online, and writes a column for All Bear Online Magazine.
Xavier has several degrees in fields such as communications, library technology, and literature.
Blurb:
When Pryor's daughter Lily is taken by a wolf, Pryor is convinced she has turned into the creature he sees lurking in his woods. He swears she promises to return to him. But is it his despair and desperation making him see things or is there something more lurking in the shadows of the forest? When he meets Ned, a silversmith who helps him with a plan to bring his daughter back into his life, he begins to live again. But can his newfound love help ease the horror that may be waiting? What if the ultimate horror isn’t when Lily was taken but it’s when Lily returns and he realizes his nightmare has only just begun...
I am Lily's father, my name is Pryor. It was a year ago last Father's Day when she was taken from me. I still believe being Lily's father is the most important thing in this world.
Unfortunately, my daughter dwells in another world.
* * * * *
I glanced at the necklace. Ned's pressed close to me, but the necklace I hoped would bring Lily back to me felt closer. Ned was soft in his sleep; not the bull of a man he was when he's awake. I loved him soft and I loved him hard. It was his hardness that grounded me, that brought me in from the darkness. The necklace caught the light of the fading moon and I wondered where Lily was tonight.
The old clock on the nightstand hummed quietly; its vintage florescent glow a pale mockery of the necklace that lay beside it and yet I heard the clock, it won in that department. Time always does.
Ned moved against me, I could feel his arms pull me close, felt the bulge of his muscles, his arms thick and powerful. He had never loved a man before me. I had only loved Lily. Once she changed, I had little left to love; in fact, I was certain love had disappeared from my life all together.
The clock still hummed, never quiet; it's old and made noise as if time itself wanted us all to know that it was passing and with each minute Lily fell farther and farther into the darkness. The tears came then and at the same time Ned's cock pushed more firmly against my back. He grumbled, pulled me even tighter so that I could truly feel his penis--not hard, not entirely soft--on the edge of wanting. A tear fell and I gasped a little. Seeing the necklace; hearing the clock, feeling Ned's cock, his muscles, I fell away into him and closed my eyes.
"Why aren't you sleeping?"
"I was," I replied softly.
"No you weren't," his voice was sleepy; distant and yet he knew things, he knew I was awake, thinking about my lost daughter.
"It's Father's Day," I answered, skipping over my lie. "Do you think she will come?" I felt him nod and nodded in return against my pillow. Another tear fell.
"Come closer," he whispered.
"How much closer could I get?"
"Closer," he said again, a growl, a grunt; there was the bull I knew.
His lips brushed on my neck, a hand on my thigh stroking, touching, pulling a sigh from my mouth. I wiped a hand across my face.
"I never get sick of touching you," he whispered wetly, his tongue tracing my ear.
Smiling, I turned in his big arms and I could feel my thoughts ease. Ned had that way about him. 'Magic arms' I called him because he had this way of holding me that made me feel completely safe and for one man to be able to do that for another was amazing.
I kissed him and was happy to discover his breath was not bad but sweet, the trace of his toothpaste before bed still there and I smiled even as I kissed him. Ned sighed gently, his cock fully hard now, urgent, pressing. I reached down and stroked him through his boxers; he was already wet. I tried to pull my tongue from his mouth but he only pulled me closer, deeper; at one point I was almost certain one of us was going to stop breathing.
He finally relented but only because I jokingly squeezed his balls a little too tightly.
"Fuck, you make me nuts," he grumbled, we both laughed at his joke.
His hand reached for my cock; I slept naked so there was no flimsy cotton between his rough hands and my skin.
"You like that?"
I nodded, I did like it, I'd thought I wouldn't ever be able to like sex again, or any intimacy after Lily disappeared.
His hands were rough but I relished his edges; he touched me as if he knew me and, after a year, I guess he kind of did.
"You want me to suck it?" His voice was hoarse with his question; there was still a shy embarrassment behind it, as if he couldn't really believe he was going to suck cock.
"What do you think?"
My response excited him. I could see it in his eyes, even in the dark; the fading moon told me just enough.
When you had a daughter like mine, you learned a lot from the moon.
Welcome Kris Andersson, author of While the Wife’s Away and Other Stories, an excellent collection of m/m erotic stories. There'll be more about the book later. First I want to ask Kris how he comes up with those steamy sex scenes.
Kris: Not being anything like as adventurous or outrageous as the characters in my stories, I have to rely on my imagination for most of the explicit sexual activity that fuels every tale.
And sometimes the spark of inspiration can be found in the least likely places.
I am a big fan of silent cinema – not the comedies of Keaton and Lloyd but the epic dramas of movie pioneers DW Griffith and Cecil B De Mille.
Don’t look to Griffith for erotic inspiration amid the astonishing pageantry, though there are some surprising nude scenes in his wonderful 1914 epic Intolerance.
But De Mille, on the other hand, directly inspired one of the most explicit and outrageous incidents in my first collection of stories, While the Wife’s Away.
The third story in the set, The Sin of Father Anthony, is the story of a young man’s passion for the handsome new parish priest.
As I was writing the story I was also watching my new DVD copy of De Mille’s 1920s blockbuster Manslaughter.
De Mille was a Victorian who believed in giving his audiences a strong morality tale and if that meant showing the vices he was condemning, then it was a lesson they would take – and enjoy!
Manslaughter is the story of a headstrong 1920s flapper who eventually winds up in court where the excesses of the Jazz Age are compared to the Fall of Ancient Rome.
Cue a flashback in which scantily clad extras roll around ancient marble halls – or Hollywood’s idea of ancient marble halls – before the Goths arrive to rape and pillage.
It’s a mortality tale all right – but one served up with enough lascivious detail to keep 1920s audiences on the edge of their seats and ready for the next sermon.
And from there – removing the preaching element completely of course - came the unscheduled idea of having my own narrator, inspired by the statue of St Sebastian that stands by the altar at Father Anthony’s Church, fantasise about being a Roman martyr himself…
As my thoughts started to wander, I would see myself become Sebastian, tied to the executioner’s post, my chest smooth, my groin covered only by a flimsy loin cloth.
And then my Roman Centurion persecutor would appear, looking remarkably like Father Anthony but dressed not in priestly garb but in the full Roman regalia of war.
He would approach me, pressing the cold metal of his breastplate against my chest as he grabbed me by my curling hair and pressed his mouth against mine, forcing his tongue between my lips while I struggled to retain my saintly virtue.
But he would simply laugh and smile that devilish smile as my body betrayed me, for my tongue started to seek his and my loin cloth started to move as my cock responded to the call of nature.
As I maintained the pretense of denial, he reached down and tore the cloth away, gripping my fully erect penis in his hand and squeezing firmly.
Then he reached under the skirt of his military tunic and pulled out his own hard, long and thick member, wanking as he continued to force his tongue into my mouth, enjoying the sensation of me pretending to avoid his hot, sweaty embrace…
I’m not sure it’s exactly what Cecil had in mind when he was directing his movies but the flashback technique added one extra level of erotic excitement to a story already packed with steamy close encounters and it demonstrates that inspiration can be found in the least likely places.
*****
While the Wife's Away is a collection of three gay short stories from well-known erotic author Kris Andersson.
While the Wife's Away: When the boss suggests an evening meeting at his home and makes it quite clear that his wife is away for the night, you can guarantee that there will be more than statistics and spread sheets on the agenda - and by the end of the night a new sort of business partnership has been created.
Masters and Servants: It's hard losing your job - and even harder looking for something new. But just how far will one man go to impress the boss? From steamy encounters in the office to passion in a scenic lift and shower room to lust in the potting shed, this is one job search that proves especially stimulating!
The Sin of Father Anthony: When a new priest arrives in town, one lapsed Catholic decides it's time to start attending Mass again - but he has more than absolution on his mind as he uses his girlfriend to get closer to the true object of his desire and give him a night he’ll never forget. From lusty housekeepers and choir mistresses to a hairy trucker with a taste for stockings and suspenders, this is a story packed with sexual thrills for a young man on a personal mission to satisfy his gay passions.
Kris Andersson is an award-winning writer - and occasional actor - who specialises in gay erotica. His work has been described as both pacy and steamy. His current titles include While The Wife’s Away – a collection of three stories - Acts of Passion and A Special Gift. A fourth title is expected to be published very soon and will take Kris in a very different direction, a gay love story set against the horrors of the First World War and its aftermath.
