Monday, December 30, 2013

Going to Holiday Parties? Please take The Fine Art of Conversation…not your phone

Twittering ain't conversation.  Neither is Facebook. But I think that is what most now use as the basis for the fine art of conversation. One hundred and forty characters about one person, the author. Delivered with authority, humor if you've got it—and a dose of civility.

This holiday season, like you, I have been to quite a few luncheons, dinner parties and cocktail events.
Allow me to ask, am I the only one working the room? Finding out who YOU are? Being a good guest, congenial and participating? Asking why must you look at your phone? Hello! It's 9 p.m. on Saturday night and you are old enough to not need a babysitter for your kids, so why are you texting?

Yes, I am Grinch-ing this blog. Asking that people return to the fine art of conversation.

I don't remember who it was who wrote an essay about having a daily date to meet his grandmother for tea time. I seem to think he must have been British, but that does not matter as much as the universality of what he wished to convey. When he was a child, he cringed at the thought of having to spend an hour with his grand dame alone. She required him to converse. Until he was perhaps twelve or thirteen, he really did not understand that conversation was a mutual exchange of information. Once he realized that this distinctly human skill for sharing hopes, expectations and news was revelatory, he was off and running.

The point of con (with) verse (talk) ation (process of) is to find mutual interests, discover each other's proclivities and learn from the other's experiences. Now that, I contend, should not be difficult, right?

Yet this season, I have been to a few events in which I came to meet new people and learn about them. After all, that is what gives us perspective on our own human condition. Or so I would assert. But I must say I have come away from at least two of these occasions in which I learned more about the other person than they probably expected. For one person, I was treated to a monologue until lack of breath or subject matter caused her to halt for air. I could not even inject a question, her speech was so relentlessly delivered. I broke away…for a drink, baby. A big one!

In another case, I came away able to write the woman's short bio. I know her career path, the number of her grandchildren, when the first and last were born and how she felt about that. I know her professional biography, too. This person at least talked at a normal pace and had a few moments of interest in others who sat nearby. But I will note that the person did not ask one question of any of the others. Other guests volunteered their own experiences. This person never solicited any information. I marvel at that self-centeredness.

I doubt it is difficult to teach our children how to converse. Yes, I had three of my own who were required to show the whites of their eyes at the dinner table each evening at 6:30. They were expected to tell us about their day, their thoughts, their experiences while they ate their vegetables. But teaching children to talk is a walk in the park. Helping adults to converse should be as simple.

Yet each year I seem to find fewer who know how to share information about themselves that does not become a diatribe. Even with a glass of wine in their hands!

I will continue to go to parties looking for those who can talk. And contribute. Share.

This year, I've had my share of those who don't.  Too bad most of them wind up as my characters in next year's novels.

Monday, December 23, 2013

Santa, Baby, I want a little civility, no more navel gazers, negotiation among opposites, people who understand that love is WORK, baby, and a gin and tonic. Make that a double!

Yesterday, I was tempted to go sit on Santa's knee. I was at the Mall, saw the line, had the urge to push those kids aside and declare what I want.
I am too old for that, some would say. But still, I was sorely tempted. After all, I know no child who ever approached the bearded guy with anything other than trepidation. I have none. He would value that. Men do, we writers of erotic romance understand that.
Why would I make a spectacle of myself and sit on Santa's knee? Would I tell him I write erotica? No, no. Not where I go with this. It would be because I WANT things for Christmas.

1. All those folks out there in la-la land who think that connecting with the Yin-Yang of the world comes from constantly looking at themselves (NAVELS, anyone?) lack perspective.

Dare I add, they need a little humility.
If one more person tells me they are due a reward for being good this year, I will smack them.
You get what you give.
No give to others, no get anything in return.
And here, I am not talking about giving away money. I speak only of giving  talents and time to those less fortunate.
Rescue a homeless dog or cat.
Work at a soup kitchen for a day.
And no, donating your old jeans to Good Will does not qualify.

2. I want people to learn that compromise is not a dirty word.

I'm tired of being bullied by my opposite political persuasion. Yes, I'd love to have time with my loved ones over the holidays without a diatribe about:
  • Santa Claus's race
  • healthcare
  • Iran vis a vis Israel
  • tax rates
Even a local money management firm here in San Antonio runs political ads of the Wild Eyed Crazy type on their electronic billboard next to lines like: Merry Christmas! Good Will Toward Men. My response is: well, brother, what have you done to foster good will toward men lately?

Truth is: If I ran my decades' old marriage the way the two political parties in this country have NOT run this country and taught the rest of us to:
a) interrupt each other when we talk,
b) disparage anything the other says that is opposite theirs,
c) demand they get their way all the freaking time, I would not be married…or in love with ANYone.
And then we could move on to other great discussions to include items that disparage the divorce rate, lagging birth rate and the failing educational system which cannot teach a child to tolerate any other because they have no role models!

3. I want more people to read a damn book.

Do you know that since approximately the mid-1980s, the average college graduate in the USA reads one book a year. 
Fiction. Non. Who cares? Right. No one.
Are we all so busy playing video games? Texting? Buying stuff like shea butter and yoga toes sox, and Williams Sonoma peppermint bark mix?
That's what we do with our time.
And we are the educated ones.
Recently, another study told us that people who read fiction, have more compassion for others. They can identify with others' challenges. I say to them, BRING IT ON.
I want to clone you.
We need more readers in this country and God knows, we need more compassion.
One of every 5 children goes to bed hungry in this country. One out of 5.
Think about that.  Every fifth child you see on the sidewalk…or standing in line for Santa.
Pitiful. And yet, I do hear from people who have a college education and should know better, that this is their fault that they cannot eat well. REALLY? These children do not eat well because their parents have no money to put a decent meal on the table. They have to TRAVEL miles to get to a large grocery store and traveling costs bus money, at the very least.
Let's get more intelligent about how we airbrush the less fortunate in this country. Airbrushing is for women's magazines, not public policy.

4. And speaking of women's magazines, I want Santa to FIRE all those editors who publish stories which begin with: How To Get Your Man To…

THIS is what I fought for when I told my corporate boss I would not take that big promotion unless he also gave me the salary my male predecessor earned?

THIS is what I need my own daughter to read when I have a wonderful proliferation of women's fiction, romance novels and yes, erotica for women to choose from????

Women's magazines that purport to tell a woman how to capture The Elusive Male are so full of 1950s delusions. Where is Betty Friedan when you need her?

This stuff went out with girdles.

But wait! Now we have Spanx. 

Can we girls never get our $hit together???

5. Finally, I do want a good gin and tonic. I need a double.

Furthermore, when you come to my house this year for our Kareoke and wine tasting party, please do not bring that $5 bottle. That is an insult. (Remember, I'm serving great nibbles cuz I am honoring our friendship. Reciprocate.)

Fine taste and good manners are still appreciated. And I want more people to think twice about how to honor their friends. 

Humility. Charity. Integrity. Good manners.

All I want for Christmas.

Give it to me.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Two Dads for Christmas! Kate Richards has the goods!

WOW, how about these 2 guys in your stocking?
Lauren is in trouble. Only the adoption agency lady knows the heartbreaking decision she’s making. But every baby deserves a father and Lauren’s ex isn’t stepping up to the plate. Without a dad for her child, Lauren doesn’t feel she can give her baby what he or she deserves. When her mother sends her to the Castillo resort in Castle, Alaska to help with a holiday celebration, Lauren jumps at the chance to forget her worries.

Jorell’s career is soaring. In charge of development for the Castillo Resorts Caribbean region, the only thing on his mind is pursuing a vice presidency. Not romance. But a forced transfer to the frozen north throws him—and his prospects off-kilter.

Zachary lives near Castle, Alaska, but the fishing guide has had little success finding a social life and fears his interest in both men and women may be too wild for the wilderness.

Two men and one pregnant woman…in charge of the holiday activities at the Christmas Extravaganza at Castle Lodge. Friendship and intense attraction blooms between them. But Madame Eve has her work cut out for her…will Jorell and Zach provide enough reasons for Lauren to change her mind?

Your aunt and uncle love you very much and, as a special Christmas gift, they allowed me to arrange a unique evening for you. Your date will meet you at the large cabin behind the lodge, for a night you will never forget.
Madame Eve

   Perfect. Might as well get it over with—although it would have been simpler to give the guy the slip in the coffee shop or another public area. Kathryn and Nick met through Madame Eve and shared a world-class romance, even now that they were married and parents. Sweet looks, private jokes, stolen kisses…everything any girl could want. She stuffed the paper into her bodice with a sigh.
   But she’d already set her course and, if it weren’t for her previous poor judgment and the fact that she’d already fallen hard for two men who had eyes only for each other, it could indeed be a night to remember. Instead, she cut through the gleaming kitchen, smiling at the late night staffers, and out the back door. A light beamed from the front window of the cabin where, according to Andie, she’d spent her first night with her true loves. For just a second an image flashed through her mind—of Jorell and    Zach, their nude white and mocha bodies in a four-poster bed, arms outstretched to her in invitation.
   But the single tear froze on her cheek along with her dreams as she plodded up the path to the cabin and lifted her hand to the door.
   It jerked open, and she gasped. Christmas music poured out on a gust of warm, pine-scented air. A tall spruce decked for the holidays glittered in a corner. Low laughter from somewhere near the flickering flames of the fireplace did not come from the auburn-bearded man who greeted her in the open doorway. It came from Jorell.
   And Zach’s hand was the one that tugged her inside, when her feet became one with the doorstep. Lauren’s heart thudded so loud in her ears, it drowned out the Carol of the Bells. Her hopes rose to the high rafters then crashed down when she realized….
   “I’m so sorry to interrupt your evening. I must be at the wrong cabin.” And she’d be going back to her room after that, date be darned.

Kate Richards Bio:
Kate Richards divides her time between Los Angeles and the High Sierras. She would gladly spend all her days in the mountains, but she’d miss the beach…and her very supportive husband’s commute would be three hundred miles. Wherever she is, she loves to explore all different kinds of relationships in her stories. She doesn’t believe one-size-fits-all, and whether her characters live BDSM, ménage, GLBT or any other kind of lifestyle, it’s the love, the joy I one another, that counts.

Facebook Fan Page 
Goodreads Page

Monday, December 16, 2013

SAIL AWAY WITH ME by Kate Deveaux and her Screaming O cocktail recipe!

Crap! The clatter of a housekeeping cart down the hall stopped them mid-embrace. Someone was in the hallway. They both stopped, his hands still on her ass as they looked in tandem at the disruption. He looked back at her and motioned with his head to her door.
Speechless, she shook her head. Lauren, Doreen and Cricket were most likely in the room, oblivious to what was going on, on the other side of the flimsy door.
“Come with my room,” he said, and took her hand in his, leading her down the hall away from her stateroom and the housekeeper. Her heart beat wildly. It was like she was someone else; she couldn’t believe she was doing this. She was acting crazy and she loved it. He tugged her closer, as they rounded the corner and he stopped dead in his tracks. Another housekeeping cart and a mountain of luggage blocked their way.
“Oh,” he said, whipping Jody around quickly in the other direction and pulling her after him. “This way.”
“Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly as he stopped in front of a door, looked both ways and opened it.
Inside, she saw it was the laundry room, with rows of washers and dryers and where the sweet scent of laundry detergent lingered. The washers whooshed as they spun rapidly. Taggart glanced around quickly and spotted the lock on the door. Turning it, he smiled seductively and pulled Jody hard against him. His arousal hadn’t waned since the chase down the hall; his cock was hard, pressing against her body while he resumed kissing her with ferocious, hungry kisses.
His hands followed along her shoulder and then lower, finding the curve of her breasts as she groaned into his mouth. Cupping her breast in his hand, even through the fabric of her lacy bra she could feel the heat of his hand burning through. She responded, rubbing against him as his lips trailed along her mouth, teasing her, tasting her neck, nibbling along her jaw and down to her décolleté. Her head was spinning and her pussy soaked at his caresses and his muscled body. She was going to have sex right there in the laundry. She didn’t do this. This wasn’t her.
“Jody,” he said under his breath, rubbing her breasts in his hand, finding her nipple through her bra.
“Ugh” she said, jolting back to reality. Jody Carter. Single Mom. Divorcee. Her dad lived with her. She wasn’t this woman who a moment ago wanted more than anything to have sex with this stranger, to rip off his clothes, but flashes of all the reasons she couldn’t do this flooded her mind.
She stiffened and stepped away, Taggart’s hand falling from her breast.
“What?” he asked, looking concerned.
“It’s just...I can’t do this,” she said, feeling embarrassed, her clothes disheveled as he looked at her with an expression of uncertainty etched on his face.
He didn’t say anything, just stood there for a moment and she could see the outline of his evident erection in his pants. A moment ago, she’d wanted this more than anything and now she knew she shouldn’t have given into her desire.
“I can’t do this...I have a son,” she said stammering as she backed away from him
“So?” he asked, seeming confused.
So? Did he just say “so?” What the hell? She stumbled backwards before hurrying for the door, unlocking it and slipping out.

“Wait, Jody” he called after, her but she was long gone, bumping past housekeeping carts and stacks of luggage as she sprinted down the hall.

About Kate: Kate Deveaux is a contemporary erotic romance writer and die-hard romantic. A former wedding planner, she has always been “in love” with love! Kate is currently working on several fictional stories – each filled with sexy romance, heroines who are no shrinking violets and heroes who make your heart skip a beat. She is a member of Savvy Author, Romance Writers of America (RWA) and their erotic romance chapter, Passionate Ink. Kate currently resides with her husband in Arizona. 
Author website:

About Sail Away With Me:
Before Jody Carter and her three best friends ever set foot aboard the luxury cruise ship, Jody falls into the arms of uber hunky celebrity guest Taggart Keith, when he saves her shoe from falling to the depths of the sea. Their attraction is undeniable, but the recently divorced single mom knows the last thing she needs is to complicate her life in just seven short days. But that’s exactly what happens when Jody takes a chance — for once in her life— and gives into a week of sensational pleasure.  Taggart helps her discover her more sensual side — one tantalizing night at a time. 

Red Sage Publishing Official Release Date: December 1 2013
Red Sage:
Barnes & Noble

SAIL AWAY WITH ME and these recipes bring a whole new meaning to “I’ll have what she’s having!”
Orgasm recipe:
1/2 oz white crème de cacao
1/2 oz amaretto almond liquor
1/2 oz triple sec
1/2 oz vodka
1 oz light cream
Shake all ingredients with ice, strain into a chilled cocktail glass, and serve.
Screaming Orgasm recipe:
1 oz vodka
1 1/2 oz Bailey's® Irish cream
1/2 oz Kahlua® coffee liqueur
Pour first vodka, then Bailey's, then Kahlua into a cocktail glass over crushed ice. Stir.

Saturday, December 14, 2013

Afton Locke gives us UNDER HOLLY'S STOCKINGS!

Thank you for hosting me today. I’m excited to talk about a long-lasting holiday gift I once received, and my latest release, Under Holly’s Stockings, a holiday erotic romance.

The Indestructible Panties

Let’s face it, some holiday gifts are gone by the New Year, especially if they’re chocolate. Others are forgotten, only to be rediscovered during spring cleaning when we mutter, “Why am I keeping this” and stuff it back into the box. A rare gift gets used year after year.

My grandmother used to go all out for Christmas and shop at nice stores. One year she gave me some nightgowns and panties all trimmed in lace. The nightgowns eventually wore out, as did most of the panties -- all except for one indestructible pair. While others came and went, these stayed around a while. The last thing a woman wants to do is wear a skirt over undies that are about to lose their elastic grip at any moment. It was nice to know something reliable was underneath my clothes. Yes, they’ve finally worn out, but I almost hate to throw them out. They’re antique and have lots of memories!

Holly’s stockings don’t go well with panties, but she sizes up Michael with the future in mind. Will he be around for years to come? Or will he just be a fling for Christmas Day?  What’s the longest lasting gift you’ve ever received?

Under Holly’s Stockings

Publisher:  Ellora's Cave Publishing
Release Date:  11 December 2013
eBook ISBN #:  978-14199-49340
Stay tuned for reviews and more:

After being stood up at the altar last Christmas, Michael dreads the holiday. When a woman wearing sexy red stockings on the subway propositions him with a day of sex, seems there’s no time like the present to get back into the spirit of the season!

Having just lost her mother, Holly will do anything to avoid being alone on Christmas. But when Michael arrives, nothing goes as planned. Despite the joy of exploring each other’s bodies with all the holiday trimmings, her emotions get in the way.

When Michael realizes the way to get under Holly’s stockings is through her heart, he’ll have to put the ghosts of his Christmas past to rest.

Excerpt (explicit)
Rose, Exposed - Copyright © AFTON LOCKE, 2013 - All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

When a westbound metro train on the orange line came to a screeching stop in Rosslyn, Virginia, Michael Tyler hurried inside and grabbed a seat near the window. Thank God there’s no music in here, he thought as he placed his briefcase by his feet on the orange carpet. If he heard one more tired Christmas song, he swore he’d be ill.

Everywhere around him people rattled shopping bags. Women chattered about the gifts they’d bought for their kids, or what they planned to cook for Christmas dinner. Year after year, it was the same old thing. Wasn’t anyone else tired of it by now?

Michael loosened his tie with relief when the doors closed and the train glided into motion. The sooner he got home, the sooner he could get this rotten holiday over with.

At the next stop, he blinked with surprise when a tall girl fell into the seat next to him. It was a miracle she didn’t drop all of her bags in the process. Who in their right mind did all their shopping on Christmas Eve? If he had decided to celebrate this holiday, he would have shopped online at least a month early.

“Hi! Merry Christmas!” she announced with sickening cheer.

Disgust rolled through his stomach. Why hadn’t he put his briefcase on the seat? Without looking at her, he returned the greeting in a tone of voice that warned her to mind her own business.

He noticed she had long, black hair and kissable lips coated with shiny, red lipstick. Her short, wool coat fit snugly, hinting at high, perky breasts.

Look away, damn it! But no, he had to torture himself with the reminder he hadn’t been with a woman in over a year. Her plaid skirt was so short he could hardly see it. What he did see were a pair of long, shapely legs encased in bright-red stockings. Lust, long dormant, kindled to life in his groin.

Maybe this was his Christmas gift. He could jack off in his condo tonight while he fantasized about those legs. After all, she was a complete stranger and looked nothing like Marcie…

He stared out the window, counting the lights passing by in the dark tunnel as the train pulled into the next stop, revealing an arched, honeycomb ceiling. The woman fussed with her bags, rattling them until Michael thought his head would explode.

A small, glittery Christmas ball rolled out of one of her bags, making a soft thunking sound on the carpeted floor.


The innocence of her voice aroused him more than a hand on his cock. He reminded himself she probably had a husband and five kids waiting at home. Doing his gentlemanly duty, he bent to pick up the ball for her.

At the moment, the train lurched into motion, causing him to fall across those warm, scarlet legs.

His nose filled with subtle feminine musk. Was it the soap she might have rubbed on her long legs this morning while she shaved them? Or was it the sweet aroma of her cunt, tucked inside that short skirt—a gift for him to open?

Hard and throbbing, his cock surged inside his trousers while he scrambled off her. He longed to spread those long legs and unroll the red stockings, inch by inch, down her legs. Instead, he allowed his palm to brush the back of one shapely calf.

With sweat coating his brow, he slumped against his seat. He definitely needed to jack off tonight. Repeatedly.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Uh, did you manage to grab the ball?”

Her brown eyes glinted with mischief at his words and then saddened. “It rolled away.”

Her face, on the verge of crumpling, reminded him of a child who had just learned there was no Santa. Probably the same way his face had looked last year during the worst Christmas ever.

As if the lust weren’t enough to deal with, his chest swelled with something else. Protectiveness. For some reason, he experienced the sudden urge to turn the train car upside down to find her Christmas ball.

His stop wasn’t far away. He’d never see her again. Instead of the relief he expected, he felt regret.

“Looks like you have big holiday plans,” he found himself saying.

A brave smile battled with the sadness on her face as she nodded. “I’m going all out this year. It’s probably silly because I’ll be alone.”

He blinked with surprise. “You? Alone? I mean, that’s not so bad. I’ll be alone too…working.”

It was a half truth. He didn’t have to work tomorrow, but he’d brought home plenty of paperwork to get him through the day.

She glanced out the window as the train stopped again. “Oh! My stop is next. I have a proposition for you.”

Great. She must be a call girl. He might be horny right now but he wasn’t that horny.

With a trembling hand, she brushed back a long, silky lock of hair. “I don’t want to spend Christmas alone. Will you come to my apartment and celebrate the day with me?”

Indecision seized Michael’s throat. “I-I don’t even know you.”

She clasped his forearm. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Coming Soon

Entrance to Ecstasy, my paranormal print anthology, will release from Ellora’s Cave on 24 December 2013.


Stripper With Spice is coming soon from Ellora’s Cave.

Getting back on her feet after unemployment, Janice Sullivan, a financial analyst, treats herself to an erotic romance convention. Winning a two-hour fantasy date with Carlos Aguilar, a young Mexican-American stripper, she decides to have a one-time fantasy fling.

When Carlos entices her back to the bedroom—and a few public places—for more sizzling sex, he unleashes her passions, including a secret desire to be a chef. Janice learns there’s more to this heartthrob than a hot body, but job security comes first.

To convince her he’s more than a fantasy, he teaches her trust with his body. But when that trust is finally tested to the limit, will she cling to safety or take a chance on a whole new life?


I’m excited to be part of the Tall, Dark & Alpha boxed set that will release in March 2014.

He makes your heart pound and melts your resistance away. He promises you a world of passion and you find it impossible to resist his dark charm. When he catches your eye across the room, you know he means business. He could be an executive, cop, shape shifter, or a bad boy looking for a little fun. Once he has you in his sights, you can't get away—and after one sizzling night in his arms, you won't want to. He’s Tall, Dark & Alpha. The alpha male is the ultimate indulgence…the richest dark chocolate…and we’re offering him to you in abundance.

Delve into the sensual worlds of award-winning authors: Randi Alexander, Koko Brown, Sam Cheever, Delaney Diamond, Eve Langlais, Afton Locke, Dawn Montgomery, Farrah Rochon, Paige Tyler, and Eve Vaughn. Immerse yourself in the alpha male experience.

Where readers can find me

Newsletter - The Love Chronicle:


This post is part of the Under Holly’s Stockings Blog Tour.                  
The grand prize for the tour is a surprise pack of holiday stocking stuffers (U.S. shipping address only).
To be eligible, COMMENT on this post. The comment should include a memory about a holiday gift you gave or received -- preferably related to the gift described in this post.
The tour winner will be announced at on December 16th.
What’s in YOUR stocking?

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Cool Gin & Hot Jazz With a Fun Dose of History by Morticia Knight!
Historicals. They can be a challenge to write. It helps if you have a genuine interest in the era you’re writing about. Otherwise, it can turn into a PTSD memory of college finals. And if it feels like homework to you, just think what a snoozer it will be for anyone reading it!

As it turns out, I love The Golden Age, so I was excited to dive right in to the Gin & Jazz series. I brazenly though that I knew so much about the era already that research would be a breeze. Ha! In order to stay completely true to the 1920’s, and the New York and Los Angeles settings – every little detail had to be gone over. How much was a cup of coffee? What were the trolley lines called, and in what part of the city did they run? Was the Musso & Frank Grill on Hollywood Blvd in business in 1924, and were they in the same location? (the answer is yes and no).

Every fabric, style, location, price, artifact and current event had to be verified. At the end of it (not really – I have three more books to write in the series!), I learned some amazing things, and have bookmarked several websites just for the cool photographs alone. Razzle Dazzle ( Gin & Jazz 2), picks up where the shy and innocent Jack has been left by his lover. His film career has begun to take off, but none of that matters without true love. Screen idol Roman Pasquale has obsessed over Jack for a while, trying to convince the golden-haired boy he first saw at a studio party to give him a chance. In this excerpt, Roman’s carefully planned seduction has finally won Jack over.

Jack is on the verge of silent film stardom, but Hollywood glory won’t heal his broken heart. Then the seductive screen idol—Roman Pasquale—sweeps Jack away, and makes him his own. Will Roman’s obsessive love finally bring Jack true happiness?

Jack didn’t even bother taking the menu. He knew Roman would order and, truthfully, he didn’t care one bit what they ate anyway. Even if he had to beg Roman to make love to him, it was going to happen that night. There was a sense of freedom as soon as the thought hit him. It was okay. He could be with Roman, and it would all be wonderful. He could feel it.
 “They are bringing us both Crab Louie salads. I thought we might not want to eat anything too heavy this evening.”
Roman paused, seeming to gauge Jack’s reaction.
“I agree.”
Roman’s mouth curled into a seductive smile and Jack knew it wouldn’t be long.
“I asked them to add avocado to yours. I know how you like it.”
“Thank you, Roman. You always seem to know what I want.”
“Do I? Hmm. I wonder what it is that you might be wanting right now.”
Jack swallowed. “You.”
Roman adjusted himself in the booth. He gave Jack another smile, and waved his hand in the air. The waiter appeared immediately.
“Cheque, please.”
That seemed to confuse the server. “Sir?”
“The cheque. Now. You may box up the salads and give them to my driver.”
The waiter left, shaking his head.
Roman moved in closer to Jack. “Shall we?”
“Yes. We shall.”
“Then I am the happiest man alive.”
Jack left it at that. Anything else he might try to say could ruin the moment. And he wanted this moment to stay forever in his heart as potent and alive as it felt right then.
Jack wasn’t sure how he made it back out to the car, but he was aware of the cooling night air, and how well Juan kept his expression blank. It most likely was a skill he had learned from working for the great Roman Pasquale for so long. Jack waited for Juan to open the back door this time. He was getting the hang of the whole movie star thing. It still seemed silly in a lot of ways, but it wasn’t bad. After all, if it meant Juan had a good job, then he supposed it was worth it.
As soon as they were both seated and the car drove out of the parking lot, Jack could feel the tension and heat between them. He looked shyly over at Roman. There was such a look of anticipation on Roman’s face as he considered Jack, that he didn’t know how they would be able to contain themselves for the ride home. Touching was out of the question.
“Only twenty minutes more, Jack Stone.”
Jack’s breath hitched in his throat. It was impossible for him to speak.
The ride took what amounted to forever for Jack, and as they passed through the elaborate wrought iron gates and up the driveway past the marble fountain, tears stung  Jack’s eyes. It was all too much. The last time he had been there, all that had happened since then, and now…
As soon as the vehicle came to a halt on the gravel driveway right next to the front steps, panic rose inside Jack.
Roman gently touched his shoulder. “Jack?”
He gulped in mouthfuls of air and gripped the edge of the back seat of the Hudson.
He heard Roman say something to Juan about leaving the car for later, and Jack was relieved that Juan had left. He just wanted to be completely alone with Roman. He laughed. That was the exact opposite of the way he’d felt a while before.
Roman slid in the seat next to Jack, put an arm around his shoulders and drew him close.
“Jack. If you’re not ready…”
Jack turned in Roman’s embrace, threw his arms about Roman’s neck and kissed him hard on the lips. He thrust his tongue in Roman’s mouth, aching to taste him there, and everywhere. Roman yanked Jack onto his lap, and battled him for dominance. They grasped and clung to one another in the raw hunger of denial. Roman clutched the greased strands of Jack’s hair, and held him fast in the ferocious kiss.
Jack struggled to get as close as he could to Roman, and was finally able to straddle him. Their dress clothes tangled between them, the soft fabrics sliding into bunches, creating frustrating barriers. Jack ground his erection into Roman’s abdomen, his swollen ball sacs rubbing against Roman’s impressive hardness as he rocked back and forth.
Roman broke the kiss and bit the side of Jack’s neck. It was just enough to simultaneously hurt and drive him wild. Roman licked the spot he’d nipped with long slow caresses of his tongue. Cum dripped from Jack’s tip, and he knew he couldn’t last. Still Roman lapped at his neck, nibbled at the sensitive crook and moved to his throat, licking his way up to Jack’s chin.
“Oh, Roman, I need you. I need you inside me.”
Roman stopped his journey. He pulled Jack’s head back by his hair. His eyes were even darker than Jack remembered.
“Then you shall have what you want. But not here.
Razzle Dazzle is available now at
Totally Bound:
Amazon UK:
All Romance:

Thank you Cerise for letting me and Jack take over your blog today!

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Delicious new BDSM story by Normandie Alleman!

A good meal can be supremely sensual. Entering a dining room filled with a divine aroma, soft music playing in the background, a handsome dining companion, and some savory dishes to feast upon - all make for a delightful evening.
For those who like to spice things up in the bedroom, why not add some items from the kitchen?  “Subterfudge” is a light, fluffy BDSM story about romance in the hottest room in the house. 
Here’s the blurb for “Subterfudge.”
When Roger asks his live-in sub Ashley to learn to cook she eagerly agrees, assuming it’s going to be a breeze. After all, she’s a bright, accomplished woman with a successful career—how hard can it be to prepare some food?
Once she’s up to her ears in cocoa and flour, Ashley realises cooking is more complicated than it looks. Finding ways to shortcut the process, Ashley dupes Roger into believing she’s a diva in the kitchen. But when he finds out she’s not the chef of his dreams, will he serve up a punishment fit for a saucy sub or will their relationship go up in flames?
Reader Advisory: This book contains anal sex, rimming, food play.


Something soft and fluffy drifted up the inside of one of her legs, barely passing over her crotch before it glided down her other leg. It could have been a feather…a frilly, lush sensation. Yes, please.
“I know how much you like being tied up…do you think I need to do that to you tonight?”
“Yes, Sir.” Her voice quivered with need.
“Good thing I brought these, then.” He clutched her wrists and bound her with the familiar cloth restraints that he used with her so frequently. Her hands were confined above her head, their movement restricted to a few inches in each direction.
“Spread your legs for me.”
Ashley obeyed. The air in the room was chilly. A sense of vulnerability came over her. It reminded her of that feeling when you’re a patient in a cold, sterile hospital room.
Then she felt his mouth on her. She lurched and gasped for air when he buried his face in her mound. Tongue licking, nose nudging, teeth nipping, his hot breath coated her with his own lust. He had her quaking in moments.
She was on the verge of climax when he stopped.
Bastard! He’s teasing me. She was breathless, at the peak of arousal. He loves seeing me like a bitch in heat.
“I’m going to play with you with some unusual toys. I want you to try and guess what they are. I will help you along, but you give your best guess. Ready?”
“Yes, Sir.” She nodded.
Thwack! She felt something on the inside of her leg. What is that?
“Keep your legs spread.” His voice issued a warning.
“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”
More swats from the unknown implement. That feels familiar. What is it? When have I felt it before?
Then a swat to her pussy woke her up. The sting wasn’t terrible, but it definitely brought the blood to the surface and made her cry out.
“What am I smacking you with, little sub?”
“I’m not sure…”

You can purchase “Subterfudge” as part of the Whip It Up Anthology here:
Barnes & Noble:
Totally Bound:
OR as a single title release at Totally Bound (early download) here:

About the Author:
A former psychologist, Normandie has always been fascinated by human behavior. She loves writing quirky characters that are all too human. Fiber arts, baking, and Pinterest are a few of her favorite pastimes. She lives on a farm with a passel of kids, her adorable husband, and a pet pig who’s crazy for Red Bull.

Follow her on:

Twitter at @NormandieA
Her website:

Friday, December 6, 2013

Jane Austen and I do SENSE AND SENSIBILITY with naughty, dangly bits Jane forgot! Desiree Holt does LOCK AND LOAD!

Jane Austen I know well. She and I travel the same time periods together. True, only in my mind…but then a lot of us really dig Regency.  When I saw that TotallyBound Publishing was re-doing the Classics, I jumped at the chance to do Jane…and SENSE AND SENSIBILITY with the erotic twists she might have forgotten to include.

Have you read S AND S? (You may have seen the movies.) S AND S is about two sisters who fall in love and in lust with men who are so well matched for them that heartbreak ensues.

The older sister Elinor gets feverish thinking of Edward, a young man whom she knows well…and perhaps not well enough to count on him claiming her hand as well as her heart. She pines, she yearns. He demurs. Finally, the two of them engage in a few close encounters which leave both of them wanting what they cannot have. Each other.

Meanwhile, the younger sister has the hots for a dude named WILLOUGHBY. Handsome and witty, he dances attendance upon her and then one day, he puts her in his carriage, leaves the country party in the dust and takes Marianne to his aunt’s home. A Big No-No to do in 1811.

And here is what happens between them:
Copyright, 2012-2013, Jane Austen and Cerise DeLand.
The carriages were then ordered; Willoughby's was first, and Marianne never looked happier than when she got into it. He drove through the park very fast, and they were soon out of sight; the entire party, save Elinor, laughing at their departure.

Marianne exulted in Willoughby’s dashing act. Curling her arm through his as he drove, she settled against him.
“I daresay, my dear girl, I feel your body purring like a cat’s.”
Gazing up at his striking face, she admired his roguish beauty and the fact that he was hers. “When I am with you, I am a cat.”
He reigned the horses to a halt and caught her against him. “I like you wild and clawing at me. Shall I encourage you to do that?”
She tossed him a saucy glance, her shoulder up, her chin to one side. “Do as you will, Willoughby. I am yours.”
Capturing her hand, he pressed it to his chest. But she was not satisfied with so staid a sample of his charms, she trailed her hand downward to his flies where her fingers cupped his swollen flesh and kneaded his manly attributes.
“I say,” he gasped, his hand covering hers, “You are a minx. I lose my breath, my mind.”
She arched a brow. “But not your erection.”
“Never. Not with you in my reach.”
“I pray you, show me this proud declaration of your regard for me.”
“No. You are but a girl.”
“Your girl, you rogue.” She massaged his cock and balls. “This package must be unwrapped.” She worked at his buttons and soon his red warrior stood straight up, the helmet bold and proud, droplets of delights oozing from his slit. “Oh, this is quite perfect, Willoughby. I have never seen anything so tall and thick. Oh. And he moves! He jerks for me. Shall I reward him?”
“Do, do,” Willoughby encouraged her, sighing and biting his lower lip. “He awaits your fine touch.”
She rubbed her thumb over the pearls dribbling from his seam. “He gives more and more. I am enchanted, Willoughby. What more can I do to show him my enthusiasm?”
“Kiss him.”
“Oh,” she enthused and bent to the act. “He is luscious. Hot and hard, the skin soft and yet so malleable. How do you do this, Willoughby?”
Laughing, he collapsed backward to the seat and let her have her way. “It is natural, my pet. I give all to you. That is my fondest pleasure.”
“Do you, dear sir?” Teasing him, she kissed his cock once more, licking her lips between her blessings to his member.  “Show me your aunt’s house then.” She took all of his fine manhood down her throat, hearing him groan his approval of her act.
“Shall I?” he seemed to ask himself more than her.
“Of course. We need more…room for our pleasures, would you not say?” She let her eyes dance at him. The merry idea of a couch, a bed, a carpeted floor to lay him down and suck on his marvellous member filled her heart with rapture.
“I do, I do.” He pushed her up from him, fumbling to button his flies. “I need to have your mouth on me until completion.”
“Completion?” She sat back, allowing him his haste and preening that she had led him to it, even though her breasts ached and her lower body pulsed with need of him. “What is that?”
He caught her chin. “Heaven.”
“Take me there,” she entreatied him. “Now.”
Cerise writes a lot of Regency period novels. All erotic romances. Her latest was HIS DELECTABLE COOK, TEB  AllRomanceEBooks   Nook  Kindle
But she does others, too.

See them all here:

Now for something different:

And here's a bit from my friend who has a book out today too! DESIREE HOLT does BDSM with LOCK AND LOAD!
Two people who want a relationship built on trust yet neither believe in it…until he shows her how to accept his domination and she learns the true meaning of submission.
Beau Williams, the perfect sniper, has achieved success by closing himself down emotionally. He desperately wants to find a permanent sub who enjoys spanking and caning as much as he enjoys administering them, but he doesn’t know if he can open himself up to another person ever again.

 Megan Welles is still struggling with her need to be a submissive. She wants a man who will give her that without destroying the strength she needs for her job as sports reporter. And she’s tired of hooking up in bondage clubs but never connecting emotionally with anyone.

 When she meets Beau and takes him home for the night, something clicks between them, but how will they deal with the struggle to open up their emotions to each other?


Megan was standing exactly the way he’d left her, a properly obedient sub. He sucked each hardened nipple until each was thoroughly wet, then he opened his hand to show her what lay in his palm. The nipple clamps he’d chosen were connected by a weighted chain. Each nipple would slip into a metal frame and a screw at the side tightened it to the degree desired by the Dom. Beau tugged a nipple through one of the clamps and turned the screw until he saw both pain and pleasure suffuse Megan’s face. He gave the screw a final turn, pleased to note the tensing of her entire body.
“In a minute these will be a nice shade of red,” he said in an almost offhand manner. “Then I can paddle that ass so you match front and back.”
He saw her swallow, hard, but there was only eager expectation in her gaze.
He fastened the other clamp in place then tugged on the chain, pulling her closer to him.
“If you were mine,” he told her in a thick voice, “I’d make you wear these all the time. I’d sit next to you in a restaurant with your blouse unbuttoned so I could reach in and tug on this any time I wanted to.”
Megan wet her lips. “People would see us.”
“Not if I hid you with my body.” His cock flexed at the image in his mind. “That’s part of the turn-on. Knowing what we’re doing, in front of everyone, but they can’t see it.”
“You said if I were yours—” She stopped. “Permission to ask a question, Sir?”
He nodded.
“Did you have something in mind beyond tonight, in this room?”
His gaze locked with hers. “And if I said yes, how would you feel?”
“You have permission to speak,” he reminded her.
He forced himself to relax as he waited for her answer. Was he going too fast here? But ,Jesus! She’d been all he’d thought about since their sessions at The Edge, and he didn’t exactly have a lot of free time to dick around. His feelings for her shocked him and he needed to know if she felt the same way.
“Well?” he prompted.
“I—would like that, Sir.”
He was stunned at the uncertainty in her eyes. What could possibly cause this obviously strong woman to doubt herself? He steeled himself not to react. Whatever it was, he’d find out in a different environment. One where he wasn’t distracted by the intensity of his sexual need for her. But his voice was soft when he spoke to her again.
“Maybe we can arrange just that.”
He was rewarded by a tiny smile, absent of any impudence or sassiness. He wanted to take that as a sign she was as much affected by their time together as he was. But tonight they had other business to attend to.
“Skirt off,” he ordered.
The slide of the zipper was like a harsh whisper in the room. When the bit of leather fell to the floor and she was nude except for her shoes, he nearly swallowed his tongue. The reality was even better than the memory. His eyes focused on the plump lips of her pussy, outlined with neat rows of curls that reminded him she was a real blonde. Not that he’d been able to forget.
He could already smell the scent of her musk, so arousing that his cock throbbed.
Megan had resumed the submissive pose, eyes looking downward, hands clasped behind her back, feet apart. Beau ran a finger through her gleaming slit, tugging on the chain connecting the nipple clamps with his other hand. When he lightly scraped a fingernail over her clit, a shiver skated over her and she widened her legs even more, invitingly.
He pinched her clit before stepping back.
“Tonight I’m going to decorate that tasty piece of flesh with jewelry, too, but first I think a little punishment is in order, don’t you? For not being here the last two times I came hunting for you.”
She nodded, gaze still lowered.
“Excellent.” He pointed to his left. “Keep the shoes on and arrange yourself over that padded bench.”
He watched as she followed his directions, the heels giving her just the right height to fold herself over the padded leather so she had balance and her ass was beautifully displayed for him. From another drawer, he withdrew a short but thick leather strap, similar to the longer ones old-time barbers used to use. And maybe in some places still did.
Studying the sweet curve of her buttocks, he ran his hand over the upturned cheeks, loving that satiny feel of her skin beneath his touch. He couldn’t wait to see it blazing hot from the application of the strap.

Be sure to check out Book One in the Attack Force series: Unconditional Surrender

Where can you find me?
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