Friday, August 18, 2017

Vintage Lust (#wine #erotica #freestory)

A Case of You cover

Today I thought I’d talk about one of my favorite things: wine!

Let me state at the outset that I am a wine enthusiast, but not really a connoisseur. We have at least a glass or two almost every night with dinner. I'm partial to reds, particularly Côtes du Rhône, Pinot Noir and Australian cabernets. Not that I'm all that picky, though. The house red will usually be just fine, especially when it's sold by the liter.

I've been to a few wine tastings. Although I learned quite a bit, “refining my palate” as they say, it seemed a terrible waste to have to spit out all those exquisite samples.

I associate wine with traveling. Certainly one of the delights of visiting a new country or region is the opportunity to try new vintages. My first international journey was a low budget trip to Spain in the seventies, with my closest friend. She and I quickly discovered that a pitcher of vino tinto was significantly cheaper than a glass of Coca Cola. The passage of time may not be the only reason my memory of those four weeks is a bit hazy.

More recently, my husband and I spent ten days in Provence, true heaven for a wine lover. Then there was our marvelous trip to Croatia, where they call the red wine “black” and dispense it from enormous stainless steel tanks into the bottles customers bring to the stores. And even after twenty years I can summon the dark fruitiness of the Kavaklidere Papazkarasi we drank in Turkey.

In addition to travel, wine always makes me think of sex. It's not just the fact that one sensual experience leads naturally to another. In many societies, wine and grapes have traditionally been associated with sexuality. Followers of Bacchus, the god of the vine, engaged in frenzied orgies after imbibing. Feeding one's lover ripe grapes has become a clichébut don't knock until you've tried it! Wine has been used in ritual since ancient times. In many cultures, including my own Jewish tradition, sharing wine seals the marriage bond.

My characters like wine almost as much as I do (and sex, possibly more). I've written more than one scene that used wine as an erotic prop. For example, there's this bit in Raw Silk:

Katherine cried aloud, writhed and moaned. Then, in the midst of her climax, she felt cooling liquid filling her, streaming down her thighs. She opened her eyes. Somtow held the wine bottle and was deliberately pouring the remaining contents into her vagina, an almost childish delight on his face.

Ah, my Katherine!’ He leaned over and began to drink the wine from her flesh, lapping the ruby drops from her thighs. ‘Excellent wine, but the taste can only be improved by mixing in your delicious liqueur.’

Then there's this snippet from Nasty Business:

That was the night, I recall, that he bathed me in champagne. Such a cliché, I know, right up there with whipped cream, but how many women have actually felt the marvelous sensation of a million tiny bubbles bursting between their legs? The pleasure was incredible, just sitting in the tub while Liu poured bottle after bottle of the chilled, prickly wine over my shoulders and breasts. Then he leaned over and licked me, sucking the sweetness from my nipples, growing intoxicated (as he said) from drinking my flesh.

That was not enough for him. He grew mischievous, bidding me with mock severity to kneel in the tub with my buttocks in the air. “Spread yourself wide,” he instructed, nudging my thighs apart and bringing my hands up to my sex. I was more than willing to hold my puffy labia apart as he drenched my vagina in Chateau Rothschild ‘88. Then, he actually inserted the neck of bottle into my hungry cunt, and tipped the remaining liquid into my inner cavities.

Wine features prominently in the plot of Incognito, though it doesn't manage to make its way into anyone's orifices. The heroine's cat knocks a glass of wine onto an antique journal. The liquid reacts with the invisible ink to reveal the original owner's very private confessions. Just for the heck of it, I counted the number of times the wordwineappears in that novel. Thirty six times! And of course that doesn't include references that use a synonym or a specifier, likePinot GrigioorMerlot.

So at this point you probably think that both I and my characters are lushes. Not so! Though I may be tempted, only rarely will I imbibe before the sun goes down. And I know my limit (about three glasses). I'm clumsy enough when I'm sober!

There is something fantastically decadent about wine in the afternoon, however. You never know what will happen. I recall a visit to a California winery with one of my first lovers, long ago. After sampling the various vintages available (and purchasing a few bottles as souvenirs), we were too inebriated to drive back to our hotel. So he ravished me in the back seat of his car, tucked away in the shade in a far corner of the parking lot. The wine seemed to heighten my senses rather than dull them. Afterward, a golden glow suffused the afternoonan aura of magic.

I still can't see a bottle from that particular vineyard without tumbling into intoxicating memory.

I turned my memories of that visit (significantly augmented) into a short story, entitled A Case of You. I’d be happy to send you a copy. All you need to do is leave me a comment with your email address.


Thursday, August 17, 2017

New #Romcom from hilarious Julia Kent! (@JKentAuthor #romance #laughs)

Random On Tour cover

About the Book
 
Now, you know my mama’s a gambler (sweeper, whatever....), so I guess I got to blame her for a little of this.

When the band got invited to do a big gig here in Las Vegas, I was so excited. Really excited. And when we got here, I was dazzled.

A little too dazzled. I blame the lights and the money and does Vegas pump a scent through the entire town that makes you think you’re a winner, or what?

Because I gambled all our money away. And by “our,” I mean the band’s money. All of it. Every dang cent.

Only no one knows. They’d kill me. So I have to find a way to make all that money back.

I have an idea. I got a good body and a smart mind.

(Quit laughing).

I can do this. I can fix this.

Really.

It’s just gonna get a little weird for a while.

Random on Tour: Las Vegas is the 9th book in Julia Kent’s New York Times bestselling Random series. When the band performs in Vegas, anything goes – including Darla’s dignity and all of the band’s savings. When a savior appears, though, there’s a trade-off for being rescued. A big one. How far is Darla willing to go?

Oh, please. It’s Darla. Like you have to even wonder...

This book is told from the point of view of Darla, Trevor and Joe.

Buy links

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2wcl2AD




Excerpt

Did you hear about the woman who died by suffocating on a guy’s penis?” I asked, all out of the blue. That’s how my brain worked sometimes, and hell if I understood it. Given any set of crises, I could compartmentalize and let at least one loose strand of gray matter float off in the wind, brought back by a breeze with a strange little factoid tucked away in the outback, coming forward to be uttered out of my no-filter mouth.

Plus, I needed time for the brain’s back burner to figure out how to give them an answer that fully conveyed my apologies and regret for being so stupid. Given that, why not distract them with a huge-dick story?

Trevor and Joe groaned in unison. They knew how I worked.

He was from Peters, Ohio, wasn’t he?” Joe asked.

I’ll get beer. We’re going to need it if this is one of her stories,” Trevor said, standing up and shaking his head as he and Joe exchanged a look I didn’t understand.

No, not from Peters,” I said. “Trust me, if a guy back home had a cock that big, I’d know about it. Or have been dead long before I met you.”

They both froze, then slowly turned to look at me.

Oops.



About the Author

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down

Social Media Links:


Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Trust your heart (#MFRWHooks #pnr #shifters)

The Eyes of Bast color

It’s Wednesday! That means it’s time for another MFRW Book Hooks blog hop.

I managed to visit almost everybody’s post last week. One thing I noticed is that my fellow authors were posting much shorter excerpts than I’ve been doing. They’re true “hooks”... just snippets to get readers interested.

I have a tendency to be long-winded, but I thought I’d try a similar approach today to see if that increased the number of visitors. I’m featuring my cat shifter erotic romance The Eyes of Bast today. Check it out and let me know what you think!

Blurb

Trust your heart. Follow your dreams.

Shaina Williamsgrandmother bequeathed her that wisdom, along with an old pendant from the Islands, carved from an ocelots tooth. When instinct tells Shaina to visit the feral cat trap shes set in Central Park, she listens to that inner voice. She discovers shes caged a magnificent black tom, but the cat inexplicably vanishes after she tends to his wounds. Seeking the errant feline, Shaina encounters instead a handsome stranger whose slightest touch sets her body on fire. As the day dawns after a night of ferocious passion, her mysterious lover is forced back into his true shapethe tomcat she rescued.

Born a cat, Tom was transformed into an unwilling shape shifter by a sorceress who craved a human plaything to satisfy her perverse lusts. Centuries old and irresistibly powerful, Delphine Montserrat will stop at nothing to find her runaway familiar. Shaina vows to do whatever is necessary to defeat the vicious but seductive witch and save the man she believes is her soul mateeven though it might mean losing him forever.

 

Hook

Its not safe here after dark, you know.

His earnest tone made me chuckle. I held up the can of mace.I can take care of myself.

Worry furrowed his high forehead.That wont help against some of the things that come out at night.

A chill shot through me. I shook it away.I was just headed home anyway.

Good. You should be careful.His smile returned, melting my last vestiges of suspicion. He pronounced his English with a precision that made me wonder if he spoke something else as his native language. It wasnt exactly an accent, but I could tell he wasnt a native New Yorker.

What about you?

Oh, I know my way around here,he answered. He ran his fingers through his curls and arched his back a bit, as though stretching. Despite that odd awkwardness, he was lithe and graceful. A brief pang of desire shot through me.And I have excellent night vision. Exceptionally sharp hearing too.

I couldnt figure out why, but something about him felt familiar.Have we met before?I asked then cringed, realizing it sounded like a pick-up line.I meanumI dont mean…” Hot blood climbed into my cheeks, though the shadows were probably too dense for him to detect my discomfort.

His bold laugh rang out in the growing darkness.Maybe we have met,he said.I live in the neighborhood. Do you?

Pretty close,I answered, alarm bells sounding in my head. No matter how handsome and charming he was, I wasnt about to give him my address.

Well, then, you never know. You said you were heading home. May I walk with you?He took my arm without waiting for my permission.

UmActually…” His touch stopped me cold. It drove out rational thought. As if someone had turned on a faucet, hormones poured into my blood. My nipples tensed and my lower lips grew plump and slick. Fire tipped the fingers resting on my bare forearm. I gasped, staring up in wonder at his strong, even features, overcome by his imminent maleness.

I wanted to stretch out in the grass and pull him down on top of me. I was dying to feel his weight on my chest, his hardness probing between my thighs. Skin on skin was what I craved, with an urgency I’d never experienced in my all my twenty-eight years.


Get your copy today!

Amazon

BN

Totally Bound

Check out all the other great hooks from my fellow MFRW authors!