Tuesday, September 2, 2014

A Charity Event After My Own Heart

Probably you have read about the latest charity stunt, the Ice Bucket Challenge. In case you've been on Mars and missed this, the IBC involves dumping a bucket of ice and water over your head, then challenging someone else to do the same, or else to donate $100 to charity (initially to research on ALS - Lou Gehrig's disease - though that has since been broadened). The IBC has involved dozens of celebrities, from Bill Gates to Lady Gaga, and has raised millions of dollars.

However, yesterday I read about another charity activity that sounded like something I'd dream up in one of my novels. In the Boob Aid event, nine Japanese actresses working in the adult film business offered up their breasts to eager fans, in return for donations to AIDS research and treatment. As you can tell by the photo, an enjoyable time was had by all - a grope for good, you might say. (What impresses me is how wholesome these ladies all look!) Anyway, I think it's a fabulous idea. Give the fans a chance to live out a bit of  fantasy, and support the eradication of a disease that, let's face it, has made sex much less fun.

Speaking of AIDS charities - if you want to help the cause without undergoing any groping, pick up a copy of the latest Coming Together Presents collection, edited by me and featuring the hot, literate erotica of Canadian author and poet Amanda Earl.  The book is available at All Romance EbooksAmazon, CreateSpace and Smashwords  (hopefully Barnes and Noble will get it up soon, too), in both ebook and print forms. All proceeds from its sale go to GMHC.org, dedicated to care and ultimate cure for this devastating disease. (Neither the author nor the editor receive any compensation from sales - other than the same satisfaction the porn queens can enjoy!)


You want an excerpt? Of course you do.  Here's a bit from one of my favorite stories "Real Irish",  about rollicking threesome:


I stood outside Serene's door for a full minute, trying to catch my breath, my jugs jiggling as my heart battered hard inside my low-cut dress. I was crazy nervous. My hands quivered as I lifted the brass knocker and clacked it against the door one…two…and three. Serene answered the door wrapped in a black silk peignoir with matching feather boa around her neck.

C'min darling. Join the party.

She handed me a tumbler of Scotch and I took a deep draught before doing anything else. The heat of the booze burned right through me, fortifying me with liquid courage. I removed my coat.

Hubba hubba,said a voice, in lovely Irish brogue.

Patrick was there already, a towel around his waist.

He looked over my curvy red body with a delighted leer.

I feel like the big bad wolf and you're my little Red,he said.

Serene laughed.

A frisson of jealousy ran through me.

So have you two started without me? Should I leave you alone?

Not on your life, honey pie,Serene said, her voice throaty with desire as she reached for me and gave me a deep kiss, her tongue thrusting into my mouth. Patrick started caressing my back, kissing along my shoulders. In the background I could hear Dinah singingSmoke Gets in Your Eyes.

Time we got you out of that dress.His fingers found the zipper at the top of my spine and slowly lowered it. He kneeled and kissed the dimples above my ass while Serene pulled down the bodice.

Give us a hand, Patrick. Undo Daphne's bra. I want to lick those fine tits. Wait until you get a ganderthey're beauties.

Mmm,Patrick murmured as he reached up and expertly undid the clasp at my bra. I blushed as the cool air hit my nipples and made them even harder.

Serene leaned down and took a nipple in her mouth. Patrick came round the front and caressed my other breast. He'd removed the towel. His cock was cut and hard. I reached for it, letting go of my inhibitions and yielding to the hunger coursing through me.

******

Now - admit it. Aren't you tempted?

Especially when it's for such a good cause?

Monday, September 1, 2014

My Precarious Foray into Historical Erotic Humor

By Diane Scott Lewis


Back in the old days, before the internet (cringe) I decided to become an author...I mean, how hard could it be? I took a pen name since my real name was the same as a woman who had just posed for Playboy Magazine. I didn’t want anyone to confuse me with her—my husband is still laughing hysterically over that one. It took me much-longer-than-I-thought-necessary (and those piles of rejections) before accomplishing publication.

Since then I’ve had five historical novels published.

Later on, I was curious (jealous) of a young author who was making millions on an erotic novel called Fifty Shades of Grey, so I thought, since I write historicals, why not pen a historical parody of this story? Little did I know at the time that several others had already written parodies of this book; but I believed I could give it a new prospective. 

I’d researched the eighteenth century for many years, even perusing rare books at the Library of Congress. Now, I prided myself on being somewhat of an expert on the later eighteenth century, the 1780s through 1790s. The majority of my novels take place in this period, and none are romantic fluff; I like to reveal the seedier side of those bygone days. Thus, I thought how perfect to set my naughty novella in this era. I wanted it to be very much tongue-in-cheek, but using the restrictions, class-system, etc. of the time.

I set the story at a sprawling manor house in England, with an uppity matron, her distracted husband, and the matron’s guest—her extremely handsome and lascivious brother. Into this mix, I put a naive young woman, a pastor’s daughter, who arrives to work as a maidservant.

First I tried self-publishing, but that didn’t get me very far. I didn’t sell those millions I dreamt of, and still didn’t own my villa in Italy, or chateau in France. Then, after finding my wonderful new publisher, who at the time did erotica, I decided to submit it to them. The novella was accepted and published.

Now for the perils of marketing. I am a member of a huge group that caters to authors of English-set historical fiction, and we are allowed to promote on the site. I was a fairly new member, so I blithely posted my link and talked about my story. Immediately (and I’m not exaggerating here) I was scolded, and warned, that this site does not and never will promote erotica. I withdrew my links, tucked my tail between my legs, and was prepared to be booted out of the group. However, the very kind moderator talked me out of leaving, though I’m certain other members still cyberly stare aghast at me.

Everyone who has read it thinks the story is hilarious. Even a very famous author read an excerpt and called it “very funny.” I won’t name her since I don’t have her permission to quote her. But be assured, she’s extremely famous.

I still don’t have my villa or chateau, but I love writing historicals, and had a blast creating my parody.
Following is a blurb and excerpt from: Miss Grey’s Shady Lover

In this erotic, tongue-in-cheek parody of a bestselling novel, Anya Grey enters service at Pretentious Hall in the eighteenth century. She meets brooding, dangerous, but strikingly handsome, Lord Libidinous who soon involves her in a sultry, sexual relationship to soothe his damaged soul. Prepare to laugh, and sigh, at their sexy, and explicitly steamy, antics.



Excerpt

The glass of pale yellowish Canary wine sat before her in its crystal goblet. Several times Anya went to pick it up, but pulled back her nervous hand. Perhaps she’d beg Pip to take the drink to his lordship, but then he might threaten to discharge her for disobeying his order. No man had ever made her feel this out of sorts.

With a deep breath, she plucked up the glass, put it on a small silver salver, and walked down the dark, wood-paneled corridor. Candles flickered in sconces, giving off the faint smell of beeswax and smoke.

At the library door she scratched, then heard a resonant “come in.”

Shoulders back, she entered the room. A fire crackled in the marble hearth to her left. Books lined the many shelves in cases against the walnut paneled walls. A polished desk sat to her right. The room was dim, shadows everywhere. She froze in place.

Lord Libidinous sat in a leather wing-backed chair near the fire. He looked up and waved her over. He glanced at his gold pocket-watch. “Ten minutes past ten. I’d nearly given up on you, Miss Grey.” He spoke almost languidly while her muscles tensed.

She approached unsteadily and stood before him, the salver tight in her grip. “Here is your wine, as you requested, sir.”

“Ah, you are an obedient girl, aren’t you?” He smiled, the firelight glistening off his white teeth. “Set it on the table.”

She bent and set the salver on the low table with a click. “Will that be all, sir?” Grateful for the kerchief around her neck that hid her voluptuous cleavage, a sight she’d allowed no man to see, she prayed he’d send her on her way now.

He picked up the glass and took a slow sip. “You disappoint me, Miss Grey. I thought we were going to have a lengthy discourse.”

Anya straightened and smoothed down her apron. She also smoothed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, another annoying habit she had trouble overcoming.

“What would you care to discuss with me, a mere servant?”

His eyes flashed with humor. “The war in the colonies, the disruptions in Parliament, or why does an educated young woman work as a kitchen maid? There are so many topics to converse on, don’t you think?”

She avoided his intense gaze. “My father, the vicar, said before his untimely death, that too many good men are dying in America, the taxes are too high here to support the war, and Parliament is split over the war and taxes. As for me, I need the wages, sir.”

His lordship laughed and slapped his knee. “By God, you are an amusing creature, Miss Grey. Of course, education is often wasted on women, who should be comforts to their husbands and raise his children.” He leaned back in the chair, watching her with a raised dark brow. “Why isn’t a comely woman like you married?”

“No one found me comely enough to marry, I suppose.” She caught his scrutiny and slid back a step. “I was known to be outspoken; perhaps that deterred any suitable swain for my hand.”

“Outspoken? I didn’t get that impression earlier.” He leaned forward, elbows on his elegant knees. “Or do I make you extremely nervous? I’ve been known to do that to the fairer sex.”

He was brash, insufferable, but still he drew her in a way she couldn’t explain. She stared at his sculptured mouth. “What else do you require, sir?”

“I require that you sit here beside me and keep me company.” He pulled over a stool, close to his left leg, and patted it.

“That would be highly improper, your lordship.” She slid back another step, her mouth as dry as that desert she’d never visited. “Lady Snoot would disapprove.”

“Never mind my sister. She’s gone to bed.” He again touched the chair, his gaze sharper. “Sit, Miss Grey. It wouldn’t look well on you to upset the new proprietor of the manor.”

Anya wanted to run for the door, but his dark eyes held her. A tingle started low in her abdomen, a sensation she’d never felt before. With stilted movements, she did as he ordered and sank onto the stool, careful not to brush his leg with hers. She gathered her skirt and petticoats close. “You are quite intimidating, sir. But I believe you enjoy being so.”

“I know what I want, that is all.” He nodded his elegant head. “And I was wrong about Biblical discussions. What do you know of Sodom and Gomorrah?”

“It was a city of great sin, and destroyed because of it.” She still hoped he’d send her out. Her hands shook at the mention of such a sinful place. “What if someone sees us? I can’t afford to lose my good character.”

“Since my dear sister’s husband is a milquetoast, and Bertha humors me, remember, I am the master here. And Lord Snoot knows that only too well.” Libidinous laced his long fingers together, his expression unreadable.

The danger from him seeped over her, but she couldn’t move. She clutched her hands in her lap, her heart racing like the curricle that had killed her father. “Since you have me cornered, what else would you care to discourse over or of?”

“Of you, Miss Grey. What do you enjoy in this blighted world?” His smile made her quiver, though he reminded her of a ravenous wolf.

“I like...flowers in the garden, the fresh smell of grass after a rain...” Under his intense stare she strained to remember anything else. “Chocolate is quite tasty.”

“Yes, yes, all very enjoyable.” He leaned farther forward and traced a finger along her wrist. “But do you like being touched in a certain way?”

Her skin tingled. “I...suppose that...it’s nice...very friendly...”

“What about being more than friendly?” He tugged at her kerchief. “I see you are a woman of suppressed passions.”

Her breath hitched and her hands flew up to stop him. “This is too friendly already, sir. And my passions are just fine where they are.”

He caressed the material, thus putting pressure on her bodice. “Are you afraid of pleasure, my innocent vicar’s daughter?”

Her stomach did a strange summersault and her breasts tingled. “I...don’t know. How would I know what I’ve never experienced? But I do feel this is very unseemly, though slightly gratifying.”
He chuckled, his fingers still caressing. “That is my point, my dear; I can show you pleasures you will never imagine. If you will trust me and only allow me to.”

A heaviness shifted low in her body. Her nipple puckered, stunning her. “I might not be ready to imagine them, sir.” She squirmed on the stool, which increased a strange pleasure down there.

About the Author

Diane Parkinson (Diane Scott Lewis) grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area, joined the Navy at nineteen, married and raised two sons. She writes book reviews for the Historical Novels Review and worked at The Wild Rose Press from 2007 to 2010 as a historical editor. She has three published historical novels: Elysium and The False Light. Her sequel to The False Light, Without Refuge, was released in March 2012. Her debut novel, The False Light, was re-released by Books We Love, re-titled Betrayed Countess, in 2013. Her erotic novel, Miss Grey’s Shady Lover, was also published in 2013. Her current release is a romantic satire, The Defiant Lady Pencavel and a historical adventure, Ring of Stone. She lives with her husband and dachshund in western Pennsylvania.


Leave me a comment with  your email address below. You could win an ebook from my back list.

Sunday, August 31, 2014

Sunday Snog #139: Last Dance

For this traditional last weekend of summer, I've got a snog taken from Last Dance, a nostalgic tale about summer romance. You can find the full story in the free reading section of my website.


Don't forget to visit Blisse Kiss Central after you've savored this kiss. You'll find lots more Sunday snogs to keep your heart beating faster than normal.


-->
"Please don't cry, Jen."

A male voice, full of warmth. A strong hand on her shoulder. Jen turned to the source, blinking to clear her vision. A young man stood beside her, dressed in a brown uniform she didn't recognize. His straight black hair was parted on the side. His even-featured face wore an expression of concern. Something tickled the back of her brain, some vague sense of familiarity.

"Do I know you?" she asked. She must look horrible, she realized, with her eyes swollen and her skin blotchy. She sniffled and stood straighter.

"Well, not exactly." His grin made him look more boyish. He had a cleft chin, she noticed, and dimples in his pale cheeks. "It's complicated." He laughed, and Jen discovered she couldn't help joining him.

"What do you mean, complicated?" she continued when her giggles subsided. Something about her companion made her feel totally at ease.

"I'll explain later," he said. He brought his hand out from behind his back. Between his thumb and forefinger he grasped the stem of a single red rose. "For you, sweet Jennifer. A token of my esteem."

How did he know her name? She took the blossom. Its heady perfume surrounded them. "Thank you. But if we've never met..." she began.

"I'm Daniel," he interrupted. "You can call me Dan." He leaned on the rail next to her, gazing out over the lake. "It's lovely here, isn't it? Even with the music, there's a quiet calm that's healing to the soul."

Jen didn't answer. It didn't feel necessary. On the opposite shore, the amusements twinkled like a faraway galaxy.

"In the old days, there was a dance pavilion here on the point. On summer nights like this it would be crowded with couples of all ages, from seventeen to seventy. The trolleys brought us here from town. The whole place was strung with lights. It was a fairy land."

Daniel took her hand. It felt so natural that she scarcely noticed. She was caught up in the picture he was painting of a happier past.

"The orchestra played from dusk until midnight. Admission was a nickel. Over there" -- he pointed toward a clump of trees to their left-- "they sold refreshments: sweet corn, lemonade and shaved ice with syrup..."

"The night we met," he said, slipping his arm around her shoulder, "I bought you a raspberry ice. It made your lips purple. I just had to kiss you..."

Just like that, he did. His mouth was gentle but Jen still felt the passion as he pressed his body against hers. Strange electricity sparked between them. He kept his mouth closed. Wanting more, wanting to taste him, Jen teased the seam where the lips met. He relaxed and allowed her to entangle their tongues. Pulling her to his chest, he ran his hands down her back to her waist. Her nipples peaked under her thin dress. She rubbed them against the odd, rough-woven fabric of his shirt. Between her thighs she began to melt.

The kiss made her dizzy. Perhaps she wasn't getting enough oxygen. The world spun around them, but there was no chance of her falling. Daniel held her, strong and secure.

Gradually the whirling ceased. Dan brushed his lips against hers one last time, then drew back. His left hand rested between her shoulder blades. The other held hers, out to the side. Jen became aware of music. She clutched his belt as he led her in a sprightly waltz.

They moved together across the floor of an octagonal pavilion, its wooden roof supported by carved pillars. Strands of bright bulbs sparkled overhead, radiating from the center to the periphery. Other couples danced around them, the women in tunics and slim, ankle-length skirts, the men wearing cuffed trousers and waistcoats or uniforms like Dan's. She felt the fabric of her own skirt fluttering around her calves.

"How...where...what's going on, Daniel?" She looked up into his warm brown eyes. His ripe lips curved into a smile and those adorable dimples winked at her.

"Never mind, my sweet. Just dance with me."

He led her with grace and confidence. Jen found that if she simply relaxed into his arms, following was effortless. As the music slowed, he held her closer. A hard bulk at his groin pressed against her belly. Languid arousal washed over her in waves. I must be dreaming, she thought. She never wanted the dream to end.

They swayed together. Jen closed her eyes, breathing in his scent of fresh-cut wood and lavender. When she leaned her head on his chest, she could hear his heart, strong and regular. She felt their breathing synchronize.

The waltz went on forever. Then the music stopped. The lights went dark. They still stood, holding each other, at the center of the floor. The orchestra and the other dancers had disappeared.

The summer wind ruffled Jen's hair. The forest stirred around the deserted pavilion.

"Come home with me, Daniel," she whispered. He answered with a kiss, sweeping her back into her voluptuous dream-state.

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Being an Author: The Good and the Bad

By NJ Nielsen (Guest Blogger)

I would like to start off if I may by introducing myself. My name is N.J. Nielsen and I’m an author. I started writing when I was 12 years old… not because I aspired to be an author when I grew up—more for the fact that my dad had just died and my mum was a tad clingy, that and I never really went anywhere. Writing let me escape my—as I thought back then—boring life.

As the years went on I dabbled here and there but never really gave much thought to submitting anything. That all changed the day my daughter was diagnosed with idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura (more commonly known as ITP) which basically means an unknown disease of the blood—if they don’t know how it started they basically can’t fix it. When my daughter was in high school she was in and out of hospital and for a while things weren’t looking too good (I should add that after a splenectomy she is doing much better). We were sitting in the oncology waiting room and my daughter asked me to write her a story… after a few weeks some of the other patients we saw a lot also were avid listeners as I wrote weekly chapters… The story was The Lines Of Marsden 1: Rules Are Meant To Be Broken.

Still, I wasn’t going to submit anything until one day I tried looking something up on line about a book I wanted to read and ended up in a chat room (did I mention that techno savvy I am not). There I met a man (get your minds out of the gutter) he soon became my beta reader and helped me research publishing houses. That was four years ago and still to this day James A is still my beta reader (he also fixes up most of my punctuation errors).

So after a lot of humming and harrying I decided: what the hell, I’ll give it a shot. The worst thing that can happen is they’ll say no. You could have knocked me down with a feather when MLRPress welcomed me aboard. I still pinch myself sometimes—just to make sure it’s real.

I currently have fifteen books out, three of which are free reads. I have many more in the process of being written. I have been asked a few times why do I write? I always counter—why do I breathe? The answer is simple: because I have to. I love being able to escape into another world for a few hours a day as crazy as it might seem to me my characters are real. This could be because that there is a little bit of me in all of my characters or they have bits and pieces of family and friends.

I’m lucky that I have a support system with my family and friends who not only encourage me to write, but a quite eager to send me pictures of character inspiration or ideas they think might work. I’m also lucky that everyone knows what I do or they would think I was continually having affairs by the amount of times I’ve called my husband by whatever character’s name I’m writing at the time.

I’m a big believer in if you feel the urge to pick up a pen, or even sit in front of a computer and write, then do it you never know where the experience my lead you. If you had have asked me a couple of years ago if this is what I’d be doing today I would have laughed and said, “Don’t be ridiculous.” In fact when I was younger I wanted to join the army—instead I now know I was always meant to be an author.

My Motto: As long as I make one reader happy then my mission was a success.

What do I love about writing the most? For me I totally enjoy bringing each and every character to life. I love figuring out all their little idiosyncrasies. I love designing where they live, work, wear. Working who their friends are and how they fit into the story line. In having said that I have to admit that I am not a plotter. I’m one of those people who sit in front of the computer each day and writes whatever falls out of my head. I’m also one of those people that works on about three or four stories at a time. I just work on whichever one takes my fancy on each day. I also work on my computer during the day and then quite often work in longhand at night on a completely different story.

There are good and bad points to being an author and for me here are ten:

Good: I get to share with the world all the stories that reside inside my head. Getting them out means I ca finally let more in.

Bad: It’s nerve wracking waiting to see if you get accepted or rejected.

Good: People get to know you through your stories (I have met some wonderful & likeminded people).

Bad: Spelling all over the world is different and I quite often mix them up.

Good: While researching for stories I like finding out new facts.

Bad: I quite often get distracted while researching (stay away from Youtube—bad N.J.)

Good: I get to look at beautiful pictures for hours on end all in the name of research/inspiration (that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it).

Bad: I sometimes mix the character’s up in my stories and don’t even realise (suggestion keep files on everything—especially, on how each character looks).

Good: Writing is a stress release.

Bad: The doing edits stage can sometimes cause said stress.

Even with the bad points I would never give up writing—I enjoy it so much. Now that I have rambled on I’d like to thank you all for listening. I should probably tell you a little about my latest releases… Yes I have two


Blurb: Toowoomba Boys 3: Dancing With Demons
When opposites attract the result can be life changing.

Graham Davenport is trying to better his life. His whole world crashes the day he’s told Damon's missing, and he’s the main suspect—could life get any worse?

Damon Malone was kidnapped, he has no clue why, and his captor isn’t talking. Beaten and bruised he waits to be rescued—fearing he might die.

Working together with detectives, Graham realises there’s more to the story than a simple kidnapping. Will they find the answers in time or will everything be too late? Graham changes his whole life to help Damon fight his demons—in the process will he conquer his own?







Blurb: The Connelly Chronicles 1: Family Connections
Ray and Viv realise love isn’t always what they expect it to be, but learning to deal with the road ahead can be worth the heartache.

Thrown into circumstances beyond their imaginations, Ray Connelly and Christopher ‘Viv’ Vivvens must step beyond their personal lifestyles to survive the future. What started out as a small white lie about being boyfriends soon becomes more than they bargained for, especially when family and friends decide to interfere in their lives. However, when tragedy strikes, Ray and Viv must step up and become parents, too. Along the way, they welcome nine children of varying ages, but there is plenty of love to go around.

Ray and Viv realise love isn’t always what they expect. Sometimes it’s downright hard. They also learn that dealing with life’s obstacles can be worth the heartache. In doing so, the couple discover how strong they are together.

When everything is running smoothly, an ex comes along to ruin their happily ever after. They must fight their past demons to make their future even better. Together they are family in the greatest sense, but do Ray and Viv have what it takes to beat the odds this time? 

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of dubious consent. It is best read in sequence as part of a series.

Publisher's Note: This book was previously released by another publisher. It has been revised and re-edited for release with Totally Bound Publishing.

You can fine N.J. Nielsen Here




Friday, August 29, 2014

Who Doesn’t Want a Man Brought to His Knees by Love?

By Sabrina York (Guest Blogger)


I was thrilled when my latest venture, the Hot Alpha SEALs Megaset, hit the New York Times and USA Today Bestseller lists and I am very excited about my next release, a collection of steamy stories about men brought to their knees by love. Check out a taste of my story, and read on for more teasers from the collection.

Brought to his Knees Box Set
Eleven Scorching Stories for 99¢
 
The Alpha male. Strong. In control. Letting no one and nothing rule him…until he meets the one, and all bets are off. The world tilts, the bed rocks, and suddenly that tough guy finds himself Brought to His Knees—in more ways than one. This collection of ten hot to erotic novellas and one short erotic novel will take you on journeys of lust, love, and adventure, leave you breathless and quite possibly in need of a cold shower. Enter with anticipation. Finish satisfied…


Whipped
By Sabrina York

Dane Coulter is mourning the loss of his best friend, fellow Special Ops buddy, Cody. Oh, Cody didn’t die. It’s worse. He’s getting married. Cody is, in Dane’s opinion, whipped.

Dane swears he will never suffer the same fate. But when he meets a woman who can take all his dominant loving and beg for more, he realizes he may have met his match. It’s a damn shame she’s the one woman in the world his man-code deems untouchable…his best friend’s sister.

Read an Excerpt (18+ Only, Please—this is steamy stuff)

He was bigger than he’d been in high school. Bigger, taller and just…more. His muscles, lacquered by a tight black tee shirt, bulged. Tattoos danced over his biceps. The planes of his face were angled. High cheekbones, dark brows, long blade of a nose all the same, but sharper. His eyes hadn’t had those shadows back then either, that predatory glint. His hair—his thick mop of curls—was gone, shaved off, revealing the perfect shape of his head. His chin, however, wasn’t shaved. It was covered by a smattering of dark fuzz. A scar on his cheek, rather than detracting from his looks, made him even more fascinating, dangerous.

And he smelled…delicious. As he moved, his cologne, a clean enticing scent, enveloped her in a cloud.

Oh, he was dangerous all right.

She didn’t care.

The slight buzz from the margaritas at the bachelorette party, the sexual sizzle ignited by the strippers who’d burst in on their party wearing camo fatigues with rip-away crotches, all contributed to her bravado.

In real life she would never hook arms with some random guy and sashay by his side to his room. But hell. This was Dane. The man of her fantasies. And, judging from the hunger in his expression as he looked down at her, the heat that passed between them where they touched, he wanted her.

Thank God she wasn’t still the dorky teen with braces she’d been when they’d last met.
She looked amazing tonight. He happened to wander by and notice her. No one else was around. And he wanted her.

It was as though, somehow, magically, all the stars had aligned.

There was no way—no way—she would miss this opportunity.

Excitement danced low in her gut as he swiped his room key and led her into his suite. It was a nice suite—not as sumptuous as Angie’s, but nice all the same—with a small sitting area and an enormous king bed. The windows looked out on the sparkling lights of the City that Never Slept. Or one of them.

Can I get you a drink?” he asked, taking off his watch and dropping it on the table by the door. It drew her attention to his forearms, thick and muscled and sprinkled with dark hairs. They were roped with thick veins. She’d always had a thing for bulky forearms. And she’d always had a thing for Dane. The combination was irresistible.
She tipped her head to the side and blew a bubble with her gum. “Margarita?”

He waved at the glossy wood armoire against the wall. “I have a mini bar. It’ll have to be shots. What’s your poison?”

Tequila then.” Might as well keep a good thing going.

He hunkered down and searched through the fridge, pulling out a tiny bottle of tequila for her and whiskey for him. He cracked them open and dumped them unceremoniously into two glasses and handed her hers. No ice or anything.

Good thing it didn’t matter to her, or she’d be pissed at his cavalier attitude. The drink was lubricant, a time filler. They were dancing around a seduction, and they both knew it.

Or…not.

Apparently seduction was not necessary. Because Dane took a swig of his drink and said, with no preface whatsoever, “So do you have any no-nos?”

She gaped at him. “No-nos?”

Anything you won’t do? Because I’ll be frank. I like a little kink.”

Holy God.

First of all, the heat scorching her was mind-numbing. Literally. Mind. Numbing. Those brash words from Dane’s gorgeous lips and she nearly lost her balance.

Second of all—he liked kink.

So, in fact, did she. Nothing super dark, but a little slap and tickle for sure.

Um…” She took a sip of her drink. She shuddered as the harsh bite of liquor burned through her. It clashed with the flavor of her gum. “What kind of kink are we talking about?”

He strode to his suitcase and fished around, pulling out a long leather strap with two loops on the ends. Her eyes fixated on it. She shuddered.

I want to tie you up,” he said, his voice low, taunting, as though he expected her to squeak like a mouse and scuttle from the room.

The. Fuck.

Hmm. I think I can handle that.”

I’ll probably smack your bottom.”

Also good. She tried not to flinch in anticipation. His hand on her ass? Gawd.

I won’t hurt you, though. I’m not into that. And of course, I’ll use protection.” He held up a pack of condoms.

Well da-ham. He’d come prepared. A smile curled on her lips.

Billy said your fee’s been paid.” His brow quirked.

The smile froze on Tina’s face. A combination of horror and rage and something else altogether snarled through her, as she realized how right she’d been. Not only did he not recognize her—after knowing her her entire life, for pity sake—he thought she was a hooker.

Granted, she did kind of look like a hooker, with makeup plastered on as if with a trowel. But still…

She glanced at him from beneath the impossibly long lashes The Master had glued to her lids. Not her style, but she liked the way they looked. The way they made her feel…like someone else. Someone sultry and daring. Someone Dane would want.

To tie up and spank.

Aside from that, the temptation to have him, taste him, fuck him, ran rampant in her. For years she’d fantasized about her older brother’s best friend. All through puberty and long after that. Every man she’d met, dated or been with had been gauged against Dane Coulter. None of them had measured up.

Ah yes, the temptation to have him was overwhelming.

Not to mention how much fun it would be watching him shit a brick tomorrow, when he realized who she really was.

Too delicious to pass up, really. The whole package.

He stood there in the middle of the room, holding the strap in one hand and the condoms in the other, waiting for her reply. Though he was all Dom, she couldn’t help but notice a hint of tension in him, as though he was, on some level, afraid she’d say no and waltz away.

He wanted her. And he wanted her bad. It was the heat in his eyes that gave him away, the way they flicked over her and burned with hunger. Yeah. Irresistible.
Sure. She could be a hooker for the evening.

What people are saying about WHIPPED:

"5 Stars—Whipped by Sabrina York was so good, LOVED all the sexy scenes and then how she mixed in some humor parts. I know she's super busy but I'm really hoping she makes this one into a series because its that good :)"—Read More Romance

"5 Stars—Oh my goodness! I loved, loved, loved this story! The sex was off-the-charts hot! And I mean HOT! The characters were witty and so entertaining. As always, Ms. York's humor and witty writing is on full display. I honestly don't think she could not write a story that doesn't leave me in awe of her slightly sarcastic, yet always smartly written style. I bow to the master."— Coffee and Books

"5 Stars—This was a great read that kept me glued to the events. Loved the epilogue!"—Ms Romantic Reads

Oh and here is some inspiration for Dane & his buddies: http://www.pinterest.com/sabrinayork/boys-in-uniformor-not/

BROUGHT TO HIS KNEES—Available August 19th





Check out the teaser video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mbYYLpmDk6c

More about Brought To His Knees

Dark Wolf Enterprises by A.M. Griffin: Murder, mayhem and imprinting with a hot wolf shifter… And they say being an accountant is boring.

Building Bridges by Amy Ruttan: A vet tech and a lone wolf rancher ride out a sudden storm, but can they weather the emotions they stir up in each other...

Three Strikes by Anya Richards: Two lonely men. One secret affair. Irresistible passion that will push them both to the breaking point, and beyond.

A Cowboy’s Seduction by Cynthia D’Alba: One exhausted cowboy + One uptight account x A tropical resort = A hot seduction. But who is seducing whom?

Born to Sin by Danica Avet: A tomboy in love makes a desperate attempt to seduce her best friend and succeeds beyond her wildest dreams. But this Alpha male isn’t easily tamed and has secrets that could very well tear them apart.

The Sound of Your Name by Felice Fox: Their silent erotic encounters change his luck and awaken his soul, but secrets and cowboy superstitions can only keep them apart.

Beneath the Pages by Jennifer Kacey: One wicked night with her did nothing but whet his appetite. Now he’ll settle for nothing less than her complete submission.

Cruising for Love by Lynne Silver: A vacation cruise comes with surprises—like the BDSM theme and her high school love, the one man she can’t resist.

Whipped by Sabrina York: A scalding attraction. An irresistible passion. A pity she’s the one woman he can never have…

Chief Sin by Sayde Grace: A taste of Sin isn’t enough. Instead she wants all of him, including the heart she once broke.

Make Me Surrender by Tina Donahue: When it comes to two of the hottest guys in town, she has a proposition…to win their attention, passion, hearts.

About Sabrina York

Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy to scorching erotic romance. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york, on Facebook or on Pintrest. Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on Amazon or wherever e-books are sold. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Free Teaser Book: http://sabrinayork.com/home-2/sabrina-yorks-teaser-book/ And don’t forget to enter to win the royal tiara!

FOLLOW SABRINA

Like my Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/sabrinayork

Like my Facebook Author Page https://www.facebook.com/SabrinaYorkBooks

Follow me on Twitter @sabrina_york https://twitter.com/sabrina_york


Check out my Pintrest boards (prepare to spend the day): http://www.pinterest.com/sabrinayork/boards/


a Rafflecopter giveaway