Monday, May 20, 2013

As Wet As It Gets


Hey, everyone! Welcome to the Wet and Wild blog hop, organized by the intrepid Skye Warren. Skye has a talent for coming up with the most fabulous grand prizes imaginable. For this hop, she's offering a $100 gift certificate from Victoria's Secret (that's a lot of lingerie, baby!) and a big prize pack of sexy reading.

Of course each of the participants is sweetening the pot. My gift to you is a brace of best-selling print anthologies, autographed of course: Brit Party (ménage themed, includes my M/M/F story Monsoon Fever) and Bound Brits (bondage themed, includes my M/F story Getaway Girl). All you have to do is leave a comment on this post, with your email address. In fact, I'll offer a second prize, too, an ebook version of Brit Party. I will draw my winners on Sunday the 26th of May.

I picked this book because Monsoon Fever includes one of the wettest, and wildest, scenes I've written, a three-way interlude in the Indian version of a shower room. The story is set in the Indian state of Assam, just after World War I.

Priscilla and Jonathan originally enjoyed a marriage based as much on physical passion as on love. However, the travails of business and the tribulations of the Great War have taken their toll. When Jon's father dies in faraway India, the couple travels to the father's isolated Assamese tea plantation to settle his affairs.

Anil Kumar, a charismatic Indian lawyer who arrives on business, enchants both Priscilla and Jon with his god-like beauty and charm. In separate incidents, each of them succumbs to Anil's lustful attentions. Will the illicit desires excited by the handsome Indian be the final stroke that destroys their marriage? Or the route to saving it?

Here's the excerpt, which takes place after the three main characters have been working to dig survivors out of a landslide that engulfed the tea workers' village. Hope it has the desired effect! (That is, an increase in wetness!)

***

The bathroom was simple, Asian-style, a tiled area with a drain rather than a tub. Lalida had left an ample supply of hot water, filling every bucket and ewer in the house. Cold water came directly from the rain-fed cistern on the roof.

Quickly, before she could think too much about what she was doing, Priscilla stripped off her clothes and kicked them into a corner. She grabbed one of the pitchers of hot water and poured it over her head.

Dirt sluiced out of her hair in muddy rivulets and swirled down the drain. The warmth soothed her aching muscles but made her scratches and blisters sting. She picked up a bar of her precious English lavender soap and began smoothing the suds over her breasts and belly. She lingered over the task, savouring the silkiness of her own skin under her fingertips.

The two men watched her, transfixed. Jon’s mouth hung open as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing, but at the same time his trousers were distended by a huge erection. Anil’s lips were parted, his tongue-tip playing unconsciously at the corners. She could see that he was hungry to taste her. For long moments, though, neither man moved.

Her soapy hands slipped easily into the cleft between her thighs. It seemed so natural, to slide her slippery fingers along her folds and stroke the juicy bud of flesh that set her trembling. She had done this so many times; she knew instinctively the path to her own pleasure. No one had ever watched her, of course. Instead of inhibiting her, though, her audience stirred her to new peaks of excitement.

No longer was her self-pleasuring lonely and sterile. Now she was sharing it with the man—the men—that she loved and desired. As she climbed higher, she could see her own arousal reflected in their faces. Neither moved to expose his cock, not yet, but she knew that would come soon.

She rubbed harder, plunging three fingers into her depths while vigorously thumbing her clit. With her other hand, she pinched her soapy nipples, sending sharp bolts of sensation straight to her sex. She moaned, closer every instant to her final release. With her eyes closed, she could still feel their lustful gaze, hear their harsh breathing.

All at once, Jon groaned. Priscilla’s eyes flew open. He had unbuttoned his trousers. His cock jutted out, pale as ivory, the helmet purple with blood. He gripped his length with both hands, jerking away desperately. A grimace distorted his sweet mouth; he seemed almost to be in pain.

He worked his cock faster and harder, his eyes never leaving her soapy form. She picked up his rhythm, her fingers probing and twisting, her thumb mashing her clit against her pubic bone. She was close, and so was he. She squatted, opening her thighs wide and burying both hands in the sloppy, soapy cavern between them. Jon groaned again at the sight of her lewd posture.

They were locked in a race toward completion, each urging the other on. Priscilla tottered on the brink, humping her hands, watching her husband ravage his beautiful blood-engorged cock. Energy whipped back and forth between them, circling, strengthening. Nothing existed but their two bodies, straining toward ecstasy.

A half-strangled cry from Anil drew their attention. He had freed his cock as well. He stroked the thick rod of tawny flesh gently, far from the desperation of climax, or so it seemed. Yet as they watched, his cock contracted, pulsed and sprayed viscous ribbons of cum all over his delicate brown fingers.

The sight was simultaneously beautiful and obscene. Priscilla ground herself against her hands, hurling her body into an orgasm that tore through her like a hurricane. Even as she quivered in the retreating gusts of pleasure, she heard Jon yell and knew that he was spewing his seed across the floor.

The next thing she knew, Jon was beside her, helping her to stand. He clutched her soapy form to his now-naked body and sealed her lips with his. Joy ballooned in her chest. It had been so long since she’d felt his decisive mouth or tasted his familiar flavour. She rubbed her breasts against him, smearing herself with his dirt. His rigid nipples poked at her chest. Below, she could feel his cock stiffening again, nudging into the gap between her thighs.

She opened her legs and tilted her pelvis toward him, inviting his entry. Then, all at once, a torrent of warm water poured down on their heads. They broke their kiss, sputtering in the surprise flood. Before they could respond, another bucketful drenched them.

“Anil!” Priscilla turned to find that the native was behind them. He too had shed his clothes. As she watched, he raised a pitcher and poured its contents over his own head.

The shower slicked his dark locks against his skull, emphasising the fine planes of his countenance. Rivulets coursed over his muscled shoulders and down his hairless chest. His skin looked oiled, cinnamon-hued and buttery smooth. Only in his groin did hair grow, in wild black tangles completely different from the golden fur at the base of Jonathan’s cock.
***

Wet enough for you?!

Don't forget to leave a comment. Every one counts as an entry for the grand prizes, as well as for my giveaway. And to increase your chances of winning, visit the other authors participating in the hop. Just click on the links below.

A big thanks to Skye for organizing the hop. Have fun!


Sunday, May 19, 2013

Lisabet's May News - and a Snog, too!


Revelry Button

New and Upcoming Releases

I'm back! After some seriously nerdy activity on my part, I've got my website up and running again, with somewhat better protection against hackers. And I've got lots of news to share.

At the bottom of this post, you'll find my traditional Sunday Snog, an intense kiss from Cat Toy.

Top news billing goes to my new release Rajasthani Moon. The multi-genre novel is available now from Total-E-Bound (at a 10% discount) and will go to general release (Amazon, Barnes & Noble, All Romance Ebooks, and all your other favorite bookstores) on Friday May 31st.

I've got lots of fun promotional events planned for this book - which means a raft of great prizes for you. On June 8th, I'm hosting a Revelry! Release Party at Coffee Time Romance's new steampunk site. I'll be giving away prizes to everyone who participates, as well as a couple of great grand prizes.


Then from June 10th through the 21st, I've got a blog tour where you can win a $50 bookstore gift certificate, plus free books at each stop. You can find the full schedule for that tour here. But don't worry, I'll remind you...

Blog Tour Button

I also have guest appearances set up all over the place, talking about the book and tossing out prizes left and right. To stay up to date about all my contests and other events, join my Yahoo Group Lisabet's List, or (if you want somewhat less mail) email me to be added to my private list.

My story Layover now out, as part of the femdom anthology Under Her Thumb, edited by the award-winning D.L. King. I also have a story (The Antidote) in the Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica Volume 11 edited by Maxim Jakubowski. Actually Maxim just informed me that he'd like to publish my erotic story Fleshpot in the next MBBNE, which should be available in late 2013. Also, Leigh Ellwood has accepted my lesbian BDSM erotic tale Sundae, Bloody Sundae for the charity anthology Coming Together: Girl on Girl, which will benefit the National Center for Lesbian Rights.

Other News

This month in my free reading section, I've got a brand new installment of Cat Toy, my cat-shifter serial. I know I've been away from the book for a while, but I'm going to try to post new content every month from now on, until I finish the book. Read the new chapter here. Or to read the entire story so far, start here.

I finished and submitted The Gilded Cage but haven't heard yet whether it has been accepted. Meanwhile, I'm working on Rough Weather, a sort of prequel to my paranormal novella Hot Spell. The book shows the genesis of the relationship between the water elemental Ondine and the air elemental Marut, two characters who show up at the very end of Hot Spell. It's set on the lovely island of Martha's Vineyard. Oh, and it will very likely include some BDSM. (Surprise, surprise!)

Tomorrow, May 20th, marks the start of Skye Warren's incredible Wet and Wild Blog Hop. Drop by Beyond Romance for a chance to win a couple of autographed print books from me, plus Skye's grand prize - a $100 gift certificate from Victoria's Secret. Almost 200 authors are participating in this hop, and every single one is an opportunity for more wonderful gifts.

Contests!

Congratulations to Colleen, who was the winner of my Back List Blast contest during April. She snagged a $25 Amazon Gift Certificate.

I'm giving away so many other prizes over the few weeks as part of my Rajasthani Moon promotions, I don't know if I really need a monthly contest, but hey, what the heck!

This month you can win a print book prize pack that includes an autographed copy of my steamy first novel Raw Silk plus Cream: The Best of the Erotica Readers & Writers Association, an anthology I edited back in 2006. To enter, send an email to contest [at] lisabetsarai.com with the subject line "Social Media Contest". In the email, answer the following questions:
  1. Do you use Twitter to follow any authors? If so, how many?
  2. Do you interact with your favorite authors on Facebook? If so, how many?
  3. Do you belong to and spend any time at Goodreads?
  4. Have you ever bought a book specifically because you learned about it through one of the above sources (Twitter, Facebook or Goodreads)?

Every complete set of answers counts as an entry. I'll announce the winner in my next newsletter, in the second half of June.

Lisabet's Pick of the Month 

My pick of the month for May is the delicious Sexy Reads site, the brainchild of Kev Mitnick (otherwise known as Mr. Victoria Blisse). With interviews, news, flash fiction, hot covers, cool reviews, Sexy Reads is just plain fun for anyone who enjoys the erotic. Oh, and the site works like a dream, fast and smooth - just as you'd expect from a super-nerd code-slave like Kevin! Check it out!

And now for the Snog...

Since my newsletter day happens to coincide with Snog Day, I'll share a kiss from Cat Toy, my free shifter serial, just updated this month. Once you've enjoyed my kiss, please click over to Blissekiss.co.uk for lots more delicious kisses.

****

Tom set down his glass. His eyes narrowed. "Are you that frightened of me?" Sorrow took over his handsome face. "Very well. I'll leave, then. I had hoped..." The sadness painting his features morphed to terrible fury for an instant. I shrank back against the wall. "But I should know better than to hope, cursed as I am." A deep sigh scattered his evil mood. Once more I read only regret and pain in his eyes.

He rose, heading for me and the exit. His impossible grace made me ache to touch him. Although he was fully dressed, in jeans, a tee shirt, and scuffed trainers, something about the way he moved made me imagine him naked. I remembered the rush of lust he'd kindled back in the park. A pang of desire arced through me.
Before I could stop him, he was standing in front of me, looming over me. I had no sense of threat, though. I caught the heady scent of male sweat, woven with the sharpness of crushed vegetation. I felt the warmth radiating from his body. I felt his power, sheathed, hidden, bubbling beneath the surface.

"You're blocking the door, Shaina. You'll have to move if you want me to go."

Wordless, lost in the storm of emotion swirling through me, I stepped aside. He flipped open the deadbolt.

"Goodbye, beautiful one."

"No..."

I didn't intend to speak. The one word plea emerged without any conscious decision. I reached for him, to hold him back. Some part of me knew that I shouldn't, couldn't allow him to leave.


Electricity shot through my arm, sizzled down my spine and ignited in my sex. I gasped.

"You feel it too, don't you?" With one finger, he tipped my face toward his. His eyes were emeralds set in ebony. They were so familiar...I knew this stranger, recognized him at some fundamental level below rational thought.

Heat hummed through me, rippling out from that tiny spot on my chin where our skin met. I was acutely aware of my bare flesh under the thin cotton, my nipples gathered into tight, throbbing knots, my thighs damp with fluid leaking from my cleft.

I held his gaze, allowing him to see the raw need he inspired. I was totally naked, open, silently inviting him to take me.

He bent to me. His breath warmed my cheek as I held my own in anticipation. Then his lips met mine and reality exploded into a riot of lush sensation. Colors flared around us, scarlet, vermillion, grass-green, velvety jet. A thousand scents teased my nostrils - the sweetness of fallen blossoms and ripe earth, summer-baked hay and rust-tinged water running over smooth stone. Sparks danced across my skin and burrowed beneath, racing through my blood to swell and soak me.

Just the chaste press of his closed lips had this effect. When he opened to slide his tongue into my mouth, a dizzy fever swept over me. I grabbed him, wrapping my arms around his back, plastering my body against his, mashing my hungry breasts against his solid chest. I wanted total contact. The parts of me that weren't touching him felt lost, abandoned. A rigid bulk prodded my belly. I squirmed against him, thrilled by the promise of that hardness.

His tongue flicked across mine, rougher than I'd expected. He devoured me as though he was starved, gnawing on my lips then plunging deep inside. I felt every move in my pussy, as if that agile tongue rasped over my pulsing clit instead of my palate. My nipples were so tight they hurt. I ground my pubis against him, already trembling on the edge of orgasm.

Happy Snog Day! Don't forget to enter my contest!

Saturday, May 18, 2013

Can I Have a Triple Personality? And Maybe Some Fries on the Side?

By Keira Ramsay (Guest Blogger)

When I started my writing career over a decade ago, I wrote very vanilla romantic suspense—edgy, but not too explicit. However, I enjoyed the heck out of the spicier side of reading. Still, no matter how much I loved the genre, when my publisher came to me and asked me to pinch-hit for an author who'd fallen out of an erotic romance anthology, I was scared to death. I mean, I'd never written anything that explicit. I had horrible stage fright. Still, I did as requested and I loved the end result... From that decision my split personality was born--LOL. It's been interesting writing under two names, neither of which is secret--and neither of which is my real name. Especially interesting when my night job of writing crosses into my day job as an efficiencies expert for the Department of Defense. Try explaining THAT to a visiting Colonel—LOL!

I have to say, once I got used to the concept of switching between romantic suspense and erotic romance, it

was kind of fun to rewire my brain each time. So now I write both at night, and VERY dry efficiencies studies during the day .

I was very excited to cross the 'pond' when I signed with Total-E-Bound for
Blink of an Eye, because I saw the potential for reaching new readers and making new friends. My husband and I spent three years in the Portuguese Azores and toured Europe while we were there. I never imagined I’d be “visiting” via ebooks before we had a chance to come sit a spell again.

But enough about me—let’s talk about the book! I'm jazzed to give you a quick snippet of
Blink of an Eye, which released from Total-E-Bound on Friday, 17 May. I hope you enjoy it.

Comment on my snippet, and you’ll be eligible to win any book on my backlist!

Blurb

She’s ten years his senior. He’s a veteran who feels a million years old. When they take a chance on love, everything changes in the Blink of an Eye.

Senior Airman Scott Carnes is sick and tired of being a hero. Recently returned from Afghanistan with a combat injury that resulted in a lost eye, Scott will do anything to stay in the Air Force, even take on a desk job he knows he’ll despise.
Cassidy Thompson doesn’t know what’s hit her when the handsome young man with the haunted aura walks into her cafe. What she does know is that she’s never been more drawn to a man…even if he is at least ten years her junior.

Excerpt

His attention shifted to her and turned primal in a flash. Desire shuddered through her as he approved her body with the same appreciation he’d given the room. Thorough, complete, absolute attentiveness. And tonight it was all hers.
He stepped forward until he was an arm’s-length away and reached out to gently trace the logo on her t-shirt.

I’ve gotta say, I’ve never seen a better advertisement.” Her nipples tightened almost painfully under his ghost-touch and breathing became an effort as wet heat flooded her pussy.

What are you doing to me?” she whispered as he circled her nipple with his finger, then closed the distance between them and pulled her shirt over her head. Dipping his head, he suckled her through the transparent lace of her bra.

He lifted his head long enough to answer, “Shhh. Enjoy.” The storm of emotion and desire she saw in his eye almost dropped her to her knees.

Switching breasts, he palmed the peak he had abandoned, squeezing and plumping and sucking until she had to grab his shoulders to stay upright.

Her fingernails curled into his shoulders, her legs trembled. She’d never felt so turned on like this in her life. “Scott, stop. God, I’ve got to sit down.”

Hmmm,” he hummed against her breast, giving one last nip and squeeze before he straightened. Sweat sheened his face and the outline of his hard, ready cock strained against the faded blue jeans. Knowing she was responsible for bringing him to life sent a thrill through her. She licked her lips, anticipating more of the same, and suddenly her strength was back.

She grasped the hem of his shirt and drew it over his head, mindful of his eye. His exquisitely defined muscles bunched with coiled tension when she ran a trailing caress down the middle of his lightly furred chest. She circled the indentation of his belly button and traced sculpted six-pack abs before settling on the steel tab of his jeans.

He came alive, no longer content to let her set the pace and hauled her against him. His lips crushed hers, tongue swiping inside her mouth with voluptuous, worshipful strokes in a kiss that consumed her. She sagged against him, circling his tapered waist with her arms and pulled him close.

His body was an inferno, scorching through her clothes as his kiss boiled her blood.


Visit Terri aka TL aka Keira at www.tlschaefer.com or on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/TLSchaeferANDKeiraRamsay?ref=hl (it’s where I hold all my contests)



Friday, May 17, 2013

All the Colors of the Rainbow

Welcome to the 2013 Hop AgainstHomophobia and Transphobia! More than three hundred authors, publishers and reviewers of LGBTQ-themed literature are joining this event, which runs from today until the 27th of May. With our blog posts, comments and giveaways, we're celebrating International Day against Homophobia and Transphobia (May 17th). Our goal – to make as many people as possible aware of homophobia's costs, and to encourage them to honor, not fear, sexual diversity.

Last year's event focused only on M/M issues. This year we've expanded the scope to include all orientations under the LGBTQ umbrella, since lesbians, bisexuals and transexuals suffer from the same types of discrimination and harassment as gay men.

Our message is the same, though. We are humans first - gay, lesbian, bisexual, straight or queer second. And every human being deserves the same rights, the same freedoms, the same respect. When we condemn or oppress another individual because of his or her orientation, we are not only wronging that individual, but diminishing our own humanity.

Authors of LGBTQ-themed books have a big role to play in reducing homophobia, I believe. When a reader becomes emotionally involved with a LGBTQ character, he or she begins to realize that we're all far more alike than we are different. The greater visibility of gay and lesbian characters in literature and in media, especially characters who don't follow the stereotypes, has led to a greater acceptance of different sexual orientations, and a relaxation (at least in Western countries) of some of the legal and social barriers to equal rights. We authors feed this trend. I'm quite certain that the many women who read M/M romance have played a role in the recent advances in marriage equality, for instance. Slowly but steadily, we're helping to chip away at the old attitudes.

I'm personally thrilled by the more inclusive definition in this year's hop. I write not only M/M erotica and erotic romance but also lesbian and bisexual stories. I've written a couple of transexual secondary characters as well, and a tale featuring a transexual heroine is simmering on my mental back-burner. I also have a story idea I hope to develop, a science fiction love affair between a woman and a hermaphrodite. You might say that I write all the colors of the rainbow.

I'll step into controversial territory now, though, by saying that I sometimes find LGBTQ readers and writers less tolerant of diversity than I'd expect. Some M/M readers refuse to read anything else. I've had fans who love my gay books tell me that lesbian content is “icky”. Meanwhile, some F/F authors not only restrict themselves exclusively to tales about women with women, but also protest that a male could never write convincing lesbian fiction. I've had gay erotic romance rejected by M/M review sites because it incorporated half a page of heterosexual interaction.

Please! Isn't this a kind of reverse discrimination? In fact the guidelines for this hop exclude M/F authors. This actually bothers me a bit. Can't an author who focuses on straight relationships contribute to the effort to erase homophobia? Don't we need all the help we can get to fight bullying and secure equal rights for everyone, regardless of their sexual orientation?

Anyway, my personal preference is to mix things up in my fiction. My most recent release, Rajasthani Moon, is primarily a M/F/M title, but it includes a bit of lesbian sex – first of all, because that fit the story, and second, because I personally found it arousing. I hesitated before adding this scene, worrying about alienating some readers. I may pay for this indulgence in lower sales. But ultimately, it was the right thing to do and I'll stand by my decision.

All the colors of the rainbow, to me, means the freedom to explore one's sexual preferences, whatever direction they might lead, without fear of being ostracized or otherwise punished. And for me, at least, sexual orientation is relative and variable. I'm attracted to individuals, not to a particular gender, and that's the way I write, too.

What do you think about this issue? Leave me a comment, with your email address. On the 28th, I'll draw three winners. One will win a copy of my F/F romance Velvet. One will win a copy of the M/M anthology Gaymes, which includes my story Crossed Hearts. And in honor of the third winner, I'll make a $10 contribution to the Lambda Legal Defense Fund: http://www.lambdalegal.org/

I hope you'll visit at least some of the other participants in the Hop, too. You'll find links to all their posts below.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

More Than Meets the Eye

By Sage Marlowe (Guest Blogger)


Hello and welcome to the latest stop of my First Anniversary Blog Tour and Giveaway. Thank you for hosting me today, Lisabet!

One year has passed since my successful debut novel, Sub-Mission, was released on May 14, 2012, and a lot has happened during those twelve months. I’m taking the chance to look back and tell you a bit about the background of the books I’ve published, but also about things that happened in my life or that are on my mind. There’s one stop for every book, and of course, there are prizes waiting for you, because as always, good things for me mean good things for you, my dear friends and readers. Please read the “Giveaway” section below for details.

Today I’d like to talk to you about preconceptions and labels because, let’s face it, our society likes its labels. A lot. Whoever we are, whatever we do, we come with labels and people are quick to build their opinion based on a few descriptive terms they’ve been given about us.

But hang on a moment, what is a label? Merriam-Webster defines it as “a descriptive or identifying epithet”. In other words, a label is a word or phrase that tells everyone exactly who we are even though they have never even spoken to us. Interesting concept, isn’t it?

Labels can be good. They give us an idea what to expect. Labels can also be bad because they are limiting and may lead to false assumptions. I had some difficulty coming up with a good example for labels, so I asked my SO what he thought about the topic. His reply didn’t give me the kind of “labels” I was looking for, but went more in the direction of preconceptions. What he said was basically, look at a banker in a suit and a heavily tattooed biker dude. Most people are likely to think of the banker as a trustworthy, successful and honourable person while many would be inclined to regard our tattooed biker dude as a somewhat dubious member of society. Does he even have a job? Perhaps he’s a criminal? He must have a poor social background because hey, he’s even got his neck and knuckles tattooed.

My apologies if all this sounds stereotypical and prejudiced, but that’s exactly the point I’m trying to make. Isn’t a banker perhaps more likely to abuse a client’s trust by telling them to make an investment they know isn’t the best for them? Does having tattoos automatically mean that the person who has them can’t hold down a decent job? Incidentally, I have a couple of tattoos, including one on my neck. I’ve never been out of a job since I started to work for a living. In my opinion, what tattoos really show is that the wearer is ready for lifelong commitment.

We all come across dozens of preconceptions and prejudices every day of our lives, whether it is what we think of others or what our fellow human beings think of us. I’m certainly not an exception to that, but what I’m really trying to say is that we shouldn’t allow those preconceptions to determine what we think of a person. It’s only a small part of who they are and if we really want to know someone, we have to talk to them, not about them.

I’m playing with labels and preconceptions in Re-Submission, the second book in the Sub-Series and nominee for best BDSM Book 2012 in the LR Cafe’s poll. Those of you who are familiar with BDSM terminology know what to expect of Doms and subs, Tops and bottoms, switches and all the rest—but what if the people concerned are not that easy to label? What if there’s more to them than meets the eye at first? What if the preconceptions aren’t true even though, in a way, they are? As always, it’s best to make up your own mind, so here’s the story:

Re-Submission

Rubbing a toppy sub, a submissive Top and a Dom with attitude together is guaranteed to send sparks flying — but what will they ignite?

Meet Tyler Kane. Ballsy and headstrong, he’s far from being the submissive type. Francis Hollister, Dom and proud owner of a BDSM club, couldn’t agree more - and yet, as Tyler carelessly suggests a bet, Francis sees an opportunity arise and decides to take him up on it.

Soon Tyler finds himself in Francis’ club and about to be trained as a sub. When Shae, the gorgeous Top Francis has assigned to teach him, doesn’t appear to be quite as dominant as his role would lead to believe and Francis turns out to be a rather versatile Dom, Tyler sees a perfect match just waiting to be made happen. Too bad though that he’s the only one who sees it. Or maybe he isn’t?

Curious to find out what happens when you rub a submissive Top, a toppy sub and a Dom with attitude together and what exactly the sparks from that explosive combination ignite, Tyler enlists the help of Pierce, Francis’ brother, and his partner Noah, and sets out on a mission.

While Tyler’s plan seems to work out astonishingly well, it seems that there’s more than one man in the club who is pursuing a hidden agenda...



Giveaway—Here’s what you can win:

#1 - Sage’s Goodie Package:
Contains a signed copy of Sub-Culture, a set of signed book cover photographs and some surprise goodies to spoil you

#2 - Create a character
Here’s your chance to create your very own fictional character that will be featured in one of my next books. The winner gets to pick the name and distinct features like hair / eye colour, height and a few personality quirks of a hero (male characters only, and please keep it doable…). Depending on the specification, I will either include him in a current WIP or use him as inspiration for a brand new story. The winner will also receive a free e-copy of this story once it’s published.

How to enter:
Leave a comment in the comment section asking to be entered in the giveaway. The winner will be picked at random and announced on my blog on May 20th. Multiple entries are allowed and will increase your chances to win. For additional terms and conditions, please go to http://www.sage-marlowe.com/p/contests.html

You can find the full tour schedule here: http://www.sage-marlowe.com/p/blog-tour-may-2013.html


About Sage Marlowe

Sage is a multi-published author of gay erotic romance novels and novellas and loves exploring the flavours of gay erotic fiction.

A willing slave to all the fascinating guys who keep queuing up and want their stories told, Sage can almost always be found cooking up the next hot story or daydreaming about new ways of rubbing sexy male bodies together to make the sparks fly.

Contact and buy links

Sage’s website & blog: www.sage-marlowe.com
Twitter: @SageMarlowe
For all books published with Total-E-Bound, go to: http://www.total-e-bound.com/authordetail.asp?A_ID=224
For all books published with Siren-BookStrand, go to: www.bookstrand.com/sage-marlowe


Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Bad Habits

I realized recently that I've been allowing myself to succumb to some very bad habits. No, I'm not talking about my tendency to put promo activities ahead of working out, or the extra glass of wine I had for dinner last night. Those may not be healthy trends, but I'm sure I can call on my self-discipline to help me counteract those developing habits.

The habits I'm talking about are more insidious. They're habits of thought, often negative.

I turned sixty in January. Naturally, that has made me more conscious of my mortality. On the other hand, my age doesn't necessarily imply any specific limits. Yet I find myself thinking these days about cancer, about arthritis, about losing my sight, my hearing or my memory. I expect to get tired. In the past I never worried about this sort of thing, but I've somehow internalized the mistaken notion that just because I'm older, my body and mind are deteriorating.

In fact, in some ways I'm healthier than I've ever been, especially emotionally. I love my work and my home and my life and my husband. The insecurities and dissatisfaction that plagued me when I was younger have largely evaporated. I know I'm talented and that I'm blessed.

I've got to fight the mental habit of thinking of myself as "old". I have a ninety-one year old aunt, and she's going strong, and another who's in her eighties and still working as a judge and a mediator and teaching law. The only constraints I face are self-imposed.

Then there are the negative notions I have about my writing. I've blogged about these before - the notion that I'll never have a best-seller, that my work doesn't appeal to the masses, or that I just can't market my work because I refuse, for privacy reasons, to do Facebook or Twitter promotion.

Nonsense.

Not all my bad habits are self-deprecating. I've become aware that in certain ways, I'm arrogant and smug, too. For instance, when I read a book by a fellow author that has problems, I find myself gloating a bit (privately of course), knowing I'm a better writer. That's no healthier than believing myself to be destined to failure in my writing career. (Oddly, I seem capable of holding both thoughts at the same time.)

I believe that we can choose our thoughts and our emotions, to a very large extent. I'm trying to consciously reverse these habitual patterns of thought when I catch myself indulging. They're destructive. And negative thoughts can be self-fulfilling.

Awareness is the first step. Then comes action.


And now, it's off to the gym!

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Mother's Day Snog

Today is Mother's Day in many countries, so I thought I might look for a mother-themed snog to share. I realized that I have very few mothers in my books - perhaps because I have no children myself. However, I do have one character whose maternal responsibilities sometimes conflict with her more adult desires. In fact, Ruby Jones in Wild About That Thing would sacrifice anything for her son Isaiah, including her own sexual satisfaction.


Here's a snippet, with a kiss, that demonstrates her determination to shield her son from evidence of her hot-blooded nature.

Once you're done sampling my snog, head over to Victoria's place for lots more sexy kisses.

Happy Mother's Day to all!

***

A gentle knock on her bedroom door roused her from her slumbers. “Ruby, darlin’? You okay in there?”

Zeke. Guilt threatened to drown her. But why should she feel guilty? She was her own woman. She didn’t belong to Zeke or anyone else.

“I’m fine. Just taking a nap. Somebody kept me from sleeping last night…”

Zeke poked his head into the room. “Don’t blame me, you little fox!” A warm grin lit his amiable features. “You were the one who jumped me, as I recall.”

“And you really put up a fight, too,” Ruby countered, sitting up as he settled himself on the bed next to her.

“Yeah, well, why would I do that? I’m not crazy!” Before she could stop him, he swept her into one of his energetic kisses. Today he tasted like the Juicy Fruit gum he chewed while driving his cab. Ruby knew she should resist—Isaiah was upstairs and it was probably close to dinner time, too—but Zeke just felt too damn good. He wrapped his burly arms around her while his tongue burrowed into her welcoming mouth and his moustache tickled her nose. Before she knew it, his string-calloused fingers were busy under her sweater.

“Wait! Zeke baby, hold on!” Reluctantly, Zeke loosened his grip on her body. Desire buzzed through her. She tried to ignore it. “Isaiah…”

“I know, I know.” Ruby detected an uncharacteristic hint of irritation in her lover’s drawl. “The boy. But he’s busy doing his homework. He told me so when he answered the door.” He leant back a bit, eating her up with his eyes.

Despite her determination not to succumb to Zeke’s charm, Ruby’s nipples peaked and her pussy moistened. “You know how I feel, baby.”

“Yeah, I do. You’re just so hard to resist, lady.”

He looked pretty good himself. He wore his work clothes—trim navy blue chinos and a striped shirt with a button-down collar. The trousers weren’t as tight as the jeans he wore when he was off-duty, but they couldn’t hide the bulk of his hard-on. His eyes sparkled like sapphires under his bushy blond brows and a lock of his honey-coloured hair hung down over his forehead. She fought the urge to brush it back into place.