Monday, July 30, 2012

How NOT To Run a Blog Tour

So, my Quarantine blog tour is finally over, and I'm breathing a sigh of relief! I hope that readers had fun - I know that at least a few people bought copies of the book and told me they really liked it. Wouldn't it be nice if they were just the tip of the iceberg?!

However, the way this tour played out was far from ideal. I've learned a few lessons over the month of July.

Don't schedule a blog tour for a time when you'll be out of the country

Three quarters of the blog tour stops occurred while I was traveling, with little access to the Internet and paying big bucks when I did get a chance to check in. This made the tour far more difficult to manage. I had "emergencies" that I just couldn't do anything about.

One blogger, due to email issues, didn't get my guest post. There was nothing I could do about it. By the time I got her message, asking "where's the post", I was long gone.

In another situation, a guest of mine discovered that her post, which I'm 100% sure I scheduled before I left, never appeared. Again, I was helpless to remedy this until I returned. (It seems that Blogger simply ate it. I have no idea where it went.)

The most important reason to stick around during a tour, of course, is to read and reply to participants' comments. I hated the notion that my readers were sending their comments into "limbo".

Unfortunately, I couldn't really control my schedule this time. The business aspect of my trip meant that I had to leave just two days after the book was released. And I wasn't going to cut my husband's vacation time short with the excuse that I had to run a blog tour. When all is said and done, family comes first.

Keep it short and don't leave gaps in the schedule

I think this tour was too long. I felt as though I was nagging my readers, sending them almost daily messages about where to go next. Also, in several cases I had several day gaps between posts. That sort of lag makes readers forget what's going on.

Next time I think I'll restrict the tour to seven or eight consecutive days, maximum.

Make sure you've got reliable lines of communication with your hosts and guests

I lost one guest on my blog, and one guest post location, because of communication failures. I sent out what I thought was an excellent post. It never appeared on the author's blog - in fact I never heard from her at all. In similar fashion, I had a guest scheduled for the ManFest component of the tour, on this blog, but she seems to have fallen off the face of the earth.

Avoid Wordpress blogs

Possibly this isn't fair - but at several of my stops people weren't able to comment because of some problems with the blog platform. I suspect that these were Wordpress blogs because I've had the same sort of issues myself.

All's well that ends well

Despite the difficulties, I'm fairly pleased with the way the tour played out. I'm particularly happy about the response to the character interviews and snog excerpts I put up here at Beyond Romance.

I want to thank the readers who followed me around for more than two weeks! There are one or two of you who, I think, commented on every single post in the tour. Now that's loyalty!

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Quarantine Snog 4 - Nothing Changes

Here's yet another snog from my new M/M romance Quarantine.  It really doesn't matter what Dylan and Rafe are doing - there's always time for a kiss!

Be sure to visit Victoria Blisse and read the other sexy kisses on offer today.

Rafe glanced up from his book—a real paper book, like he hadn’t seen in decades—at the sound of his lover’s voice. He nearly dropped the precious volume when he saw what Dylan had done.

“What the fuck? You look like a damn Marine or something…!” Dylan flinched like he’d been slapped. Rafe hastened to blunt the effects of his gut reaction. He forced out a chuckle. “I hardly recognised you—but that’s good, isn’t it?”

“Well, that’s the intention, anyway.” Dylan had dyed his fiery hair a mousy brown, then clipped it to a buzz cut that gave him a definite military appearance. He’s also applied some sort of chemical tanning compound to his normally pale face, which hid his freckles. He looked older and more rugged—more masculine, in fact. He didn’t look like Rafe’s lover, not at all. He certainly didn’t look queer.

Come on, Rafe mentally corrected himself. That’s just prejudice. Do you think you look queer? “It’s such a difference, Dyl. Sorry to give you grief. I just wasn’t expecting such a big change.”

“Is it awful? Can you stand to look at me?” Dylan perched on the arm of Rafe’s chair, stroking his cheek. “I’m definitely not interested in getting caught, but it’s not worth it if you don’t want me anymore…”

Rafe grabbed Dylan by waist and tumbled the other man into his lap. “I want you, boy!” he growled with mock ferocity, slipping a hand down the back of Dylan’s trousers and giving the firm buns a squeeze. “You can do anything you like to your face, as long as you’ve still got this ass!”

Dylan squirmed against the rising bulk of Rafe’s cock. “My ass is yours. You know that.” His arms circled Rafe’s neck. His mouth fastened on Rafe’s in hungry glee. Dylan might look like a stranger, but he still tasted the same, still had the same teasing, energetic tongue.

Rafe basked in the sense of comfort Dylan’s kisses always produced. Their situation could hardly have been more precarious, yet with his arms around his lover, devouring that lush, sassy mouth, Rafe somehow felt safe. The connection was so strong. Rafe could practically read the other man’s mind. He knew the exact moment when Dylan’s hand would snake down between his legs to palm his erection, then start working at the fastenings of his fly.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Dylan breathed in his ear. “I’ll prove that nothing’s changed.” He captured Rafe’s engorged prick and manhandled it out into the open air, then peered up at Rafe’s face to gauge his reaction. Even the most extreme disguise couldn’t hide those mischievous emerald eyes. “Actually,” he continued with a grin, “I can do that right here…” He slid to his knees without releasing his grip.


Quarantine is available now from Total-E-Bound:


I've drawn the grand prize winner in my Quarantine Blog Hop!
Warmest congratulations to Yvette, who wins a $50 book store gift certificate.
My sincere thanks to all of you who followed the tour and commented so graciously. I hope you had as much fun as I did.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

The Reluctant Alpha

By S. Dora (Guest Blogger)

Thank you, Lisabet, for being once again such a wonderful and generous host.

I have a confession to make. Don’t worry, it’s only a small and rather insignificant one, but for a writer of the erotic-romantic genre interesting enough to tell about. I don’t care for the alpha male as fictional character. You know, the one who combines a huge amount of self-confidence with a far above average talent to take the lead and make the decisions. Those traits often go together with an impressively muscled physique and unmistakable masculine facial features. Of course, if he isn’t actually in a leader’s position within his trade, then he will have a high-testosterone job, like soldier, policeman, fire-fighter or adventurer.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I can understand, up to a certain point, why this character is so hugely popular in the erotic-romance stories and why they are a fixed element in so many fantasies of straight women and gay men (and of course of bisexuals of both sexes). He’ll make sure you’ll never have a dull moment and looks good while doing that.

Also, the alpha male is perhaps relatively easy to write. He’s often the one creating the action, the one who has all the adventures, who takes risks and probably doesn’t run away from a fight. Whatever his weaknesses as a character may be, boring isn’t one of them.

And yet, the alpha male has never been a huge inspiration for me as (main) character for my stories. Not that I’ve always been aware of this fact, or that it was ever a conscious decision, it simply didn’t happen. It’s only recently that I started to notice the pattern. It doesn’t matter if it’s the “serious stuff” I write as R.A. Padmos or the erotica by S. Dora, none of my main characters could be described as alpha males by any stretch of the imagination.

My main characters are observers and outsiders. They doubt far beyond simply having initial doubts about something before they make up their minds. They are never quite certain about their own worth, honestly surprised as they are that a beautiful and interesting human being can truly be in love with them.

Take Isaac Newhouse, for instance. He’s the main character of my M/M BDSM series Calling the Shots. He’s close to forty, has a middle-management job at the office of an insurance company and he knows all too well he doesn’t have the makings of a romance hero. No way he could be the dominant in a D/s relationship with his younger lover, Tom. He, the gentle soul, could never order his lover to get on his knees and call him Sir.

But there you have it. What starts as an afternoon of sex with a bit of kink becomes so much more when Isaac finds the courage to admit that his lover’s need to be submissive during sex resonates something inside him that he hadn’t been aware of before. It’s not that he thinks there’s anything intrinsically wrong with BDSM, he just doesn’t believe he has the makings of a good (enough) dominant.

Isaac is an eager student, with lots of questions. He never assumes to be right about anything concerning his role as dominant. This makes him perhaps a bit different from the dominants we often see in romantic-erotica, but if a character like Isaac makes you curious, then I’m happy to tell you that Part One of the series,  Facing the Truth, is available at Total E-Bound and the next one, The Right Direction, will be published on August 24th. Pre-orders, starting at the 13th of August, will be rewarded with a 15% discount. ( I hope to be able to present my publisher with Part Three soon.

A small excerpt from The Right Direction

Isaac had been slightly worried that the package of toys he had ordered from the online adult store would not get there in time, but on Thursday afternoon, right after he returned from work, the doorbell rang and the postman handed it to him.

He walked straight to the bedroom, with Tom in his wake. “Can I take a peek?”


Tom pouted. “Not even if I wear my collar? You know, do a trial run?”

“Again, no.” Isaac managed to sound stern, but only just.

“Okay, I get the message. I’ll make supper.” Tom gave in. “It’s not like you can hide it from me, anyway. If I really want to know what’s in that package, I will find it.” He must have seen the look of disappointment on Isaac’s face, because he hastened to say, “That’s not what I meant. You can put everything in the toy drawer and I give you my promise not to peek unless you tell me to. Though if you’ve bought as many toys as I think you have, there won’t be enough space in one drawer, so you might want to use the other one as well.”

Isaac kissed him. “Thanks for being a good sport. What are we having for supper?”

Tom winked. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

Before Isaac could react, his lover was gone. He laughed for a moment, then stared at the box wrapped in brown paper and went very quiet. This was what he had ordered and paid for. He had masturbated thinking about how he was going to use his purchases on his sub. While it was for fun and spicing up sex, he couldn’t help but think it had become so much more. They hadn’t needed any formal rituals to use a cock ring or a string of anal beads, yet Tom had knelt at his feet, called him Sir and had looked so full of joy when Isaac had given him his collar.

With slightly trembling hands, he tore away the paper and opened the box. He quickly unpacked everything and placed the items neatly on the bed. He gazed at the collection for what must have been minutes before he finally picked up the flogger. Starting by admiring the handiwork of the craftsman who had made the object was the safest option. Though he had never before held a flogger in his hands, Isaac recognised the exquisite detailing and perfect balance. According to the description on the website, this particular flogger was perfect for teasing a sub, but also made for a nice thud. Isaac hadn’t been sure what thud meant in relation to sting, but now that he was holding the object, the words came alive. He caressed the inside of his forearm with the suede stripes and smiled. In his mind, he could already see Tom’s shivers of anticipation when he introduced his lover to this fine instrument.

The cane, however, told a very different story. In all its stern simplicity, it spoke of danger. A disconcerting quiver of pleasure shot down his spine. His cock filled. Quickly, he put the cane back.

The whip wasn’t much safer either, though for some reason slightly more emotionally neutral than the cane, so he left it where it was. He assessed that, in order to be able to use it comfortably on his sub, he would have to practise. Preferably in private so Tom wouldn’t see or hear him. His sub deserved the best his Dom had to offer, even if the perfect stroke of the whip was not something his much-admired Sir had been born with. Illusion was as much a part of BDSM play as with any theatrical act.

S. Dora
R.A. Padmos

My R.A. Padmos blog:

Friday, July 27, 2012

Workout - My Entry in the Smut Olympics

Today the indefatigable Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse are hosting the Smut Olympics, to celebrate the opening of the real Olympic Games in London. They've  invited all her friends and co-conspirators to post salacious excerpts with a sports, exercise or other active theme. I just couldn't resist. 

Below you'll find a snippet from Ruby's Rules. I'm in the process of revising this lust-drenched novel for a new publisher, but meanwhile, I found a part that fits today's topic quite nicely!

There are lots of prizes up for grabs - I'll join in by offering a copy of the M/M anthology Gaymes to one lucky person who comments. Don't forget to leave your email address. And note that some of the prizes are based on the length or quality of your comments - so be creative!

For more fun, head over to the Smut Olympics main page:

You'll find the list of prizes at:


The gym is even darker than the corridor. Like Rick’s office, it has only small windows set high in the wall. I grope for the light switch, turning on the track lights overhead. Experimenting, I find that I can dim them down to a more pleasant, less blinding level.

I start with some stretches at the bar, watching myself in the mirror opposite me. I don’t normally spend much time gazing at myself. I know that I’m beautiful. But the woman I see reflected back at me tonight seems a stranger. Her petite frame, her small breasts, her delicate ankles, make her seem fragile. With my hair pulled back loosely, I look young. Innocent. Vulnerable.

I have to laugh at this fancy. I know that I am strong and full of power. I shift to one of the stationary weight machines, working my triceps and biceps until they burn. I’ve stopped watching myself. Next I turn my attention to my quads and adductors, pushing the weights apart as I open my thighs, working against their force to pull my legs back together again.

I work hard, trying to burn my arousal away into exhaustion. Somehow, it’s not happening. Every time I spread my thighs apart, I’m acutely aware of my throbbing, swollen clit, hidden in my soaked shorts. I increase the force and pace of my repetitions, determined to be the mistress of my body and my urges. It’s almost as though I’m climbing the slope to orgasm. The harder and faster I work, the more excited I become.

Finally, I have to stop. I lie back in the apparatus, panting. The room smells of musk and sweat. With a pang, I recognize the odor not only of my perspiration, but of his. Rick’s. Damn. I close my eyes wearily, willing my body to relax. Damn, damn, damn.

There’s a sound. My eyes fly open. I am no longer alone. For the briefest instant, I think that it’s Rick, and my heart accelerates as though I were still working the machine. Then, with an inner smile, I realize my error. Raoul.

“Ruby!” he says in that soft Latin voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I had no idea that there was anyone here.”

He has obviously come for his own workout. He wears a loose pair of shorts, nothing else. My eyes trace the curlicues of hair on his muscled chest. I smile. He smiles, sniffs, strolls over to stand between my spread thighs.

“I was having trouble sleeping,” I tell him, knowing that he’s reading other messages in my body, in the air. “Exercise is usually a good way for me to get rid of tension.”

“Maybe I can help,” he says, almost whispering. His hands on the tops of my thighs, he leans over and kisses me full on the lips. It’s a simple, uncalculated kiss, no hidden agendas, no power trips, just texture, wetness, warmth. It’s an invitation.

I accept. As he bends over me, I raise my legs and clasp them around his waist. I can feel his delicious hardness, pressing against me through our clothing. He gives a soft laugh, pulls up my bra and takes my nipple in his mouth. Lovely, to feel that texture, warmth, wetness against that sensitive flesh.

He’s generous, gives me long minutes of bliss. When he stops, my nipples are round and rigid as ceramic beads. “Let me go for a moment,” he says, and I release the clutch of my legs.

He stands and with a grace I find in few men, removes his shorts. I can’t help but marvel at his beauty. Muscles that swell rather than bulge, curves that flow under his bronzed skin and lush fur. His cock juts proudly from a jet tangle at his groin. I have a sudden, uncharacteristic impulse to kneel at his feet and take him reverently into my mouth.

Before I can evaluate or act on this impulse, though, he seats himself on a recumbent stationary bicycle and leans back against the seat, one bare foot in each stirrup. His cock stands straight up, swaying a bit as he moves. It’s simultaneously silly and wonderfully lewd.

He grins up at me. “Care to come for a ride, Ruby?”

I don’t hesitate for more than a few seconds. It takes only a few more to remove my damp cotton garments and cross over to stand beside him.

“Climb on,” he says. His eyes are bright with lust, his lips parted. I swing my leg over the bike, straddling him, hovering above him. My pussy looms an inch or two above his waving erection, teasing. “Come on, Ruby. Don’t play games.” He grasps my shoulders and pulls me down onto his rod.

Oh, it’s so glorious to be filled this way! He’s hard as granite, thick, long, perfect. This, this is what I’ve needed all day. What I needed out there on Mulholland Drive, a cock stretching me and stroking me. Oh, yes.

For the most part, he lies still, giving me control. My feet reach to the floor, so I can piston myself up and down on his shaft, writhe and twist and grind myself against him anyway I wish. He does arch to meet my downward stabs, burying himself ever more deeply in my pulsing cunt. As I speed up, coming closer to my goal, he begins to play with my clit, delicate initially, then increasingly roughly. Oh, just the way I like, such a lovely generous man...

My climax slithers over me, smooth and polished as satin, rippling from my belly out to my limbs. Not the strongest come I’ve ever had. But such a relief after the evening’s tension! I lie on top of Raoul, catching my breath. His hardness is inside me still. He tightens his muscles and moves inside me, setting up lovely echoes of my spasms. I take my feet off the floor and hook my feet around his ankles, allowing all my weight to rest on his strength.

He doesn’t object. His cock twitches a bit as I move on him, readjusting. When I’m stable, he surprises me. He sits up a bit on the bike, and begins to pedal.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Ancient Myths, Secret Lore

By Keta Diablo (Guest Blogger)

What is it we love about the paranormal and all the creatures that haunt these worlds? In part, I think the possibility they might exist or at one time existed fascinates us. It's more interesting to read about creatures/humans with supernatural powers than it is to read about the common, mundane man. The supernatural/paranormal are also fascinating to research, create and write.

When I wrote The Sin Eater's Prince, I loved exploring the ancient myths and lore enveloping Wales. There are many paranormal aspects and characters in The Sin Eater's Prince, but I've chosen only a few here to tell you about. That means, if you want to know more about the others, you'll have to read the book. Clever of me, don't you think? You can buy the book on Kindle US here: and Kindle UK here:

Tylwyth Teg, Faeries/The Fair Folk

Welsh faeries that are good, dance & kidnap children with long golden hair. They possess glamour and can change into goats, dogs, cats and foxes. They live underground in mountains and caves. The way to their wooded country the Land of Enchantment with meadows of bright flowers is underneath hollow banks that overhang the deepest parts of lakes, or the deepest pools in rivers. Mortals can not follow them further than the water.

The Tylwyth Teg are dark-haired, one to three feet tall, wear birch leaf coats, moss breeches & gorse flower hats. They are associated with poisonous foxgloves which are called petticoats. They use glow worms for torches. They ride white horses and the women have bright dresses of red, white, pink, blue and green on Mayday. The Fair Folk play harp and violin music; feast on wine in golden cups.

Their sacred well which humans cannot drink from is full of fish of every color and also golden fish. Their lake is populated by herons, geese, cormorants, eels, leeches, water-hens, water-lilies, rushes & sedges. On nights when the moon is full the Tylwyth Teg celebrate a merry night. At midnight they rise out of the ground in every combe and valley, join hands, form circles, and sing and dance until cock-crows. Then they vanish like the mist.
Knackers/Knockers, Mischievous elf-like creatures that haunt the mines of Wales

The Knocker, Knacker, (Welsh) or Tommyknocker (US) is a mythical creature in Welsh folklore. They are the equivalent of Irish leprechauns and English and Scottish brownies. About two feet tall and grizzled, but not misshapen, they live beneath the ground. Here they wear tiny versions of standard miner's garb and commit random mischief, such as stealing miner's unattended tools and food.

Their name comes from the knocking on the mine walls that happens just before cave-ins – actually the creaking of earth and timbers before giving way. To some of the miners, the knockers were malevolent spirits and the knocking was the sound of them hammering at walls and supports to cause the cave-in. To others, who saw them as essentially well-meaning practical jokers, the knocking was their way of warning the miners that a life-threatening collapse was imminent.

According to some Welsh folklore, the Knockers were the helpful spirits of people who had died in previous accidents in the many tin mines in the county, warning the miners of impending danger. To give thanks for the warnings, and to avoid future peril the miners cast the last bite of their tasty pasties into the mines for the Knockers.

Dyn Hysbys, Welsh Wizard

Dyn hysbys is a title rather than a name, the most common term in Wales for a wizard. The soul of the druid, too imperfect for Christian heaven and too good for hell, inhabits the body of the dyn hysbys. Among the powers of the dyn hysbys is the ability to know and reveal the unknown, especially events in the future pertaining to love and death. Such powers might also be applied to commonplaces, like finding money that has been lost or helping a Welshman to escape from an English gaol. He is said to possess the power of breaking spells by undoing the evil perpetrated by witches and others.

A dyn hysbys might also undertake to heal an animal or human by using charms and incantations. His powers are especially potent on the days when the world of the spirits is thought to come closer to that of humans, such as May Day, St John's Day, and the eve of winter. There are three kinds of dyn hysbys: clerics, men who had learned their craft from esoteric books, and those who had inherited the power from their families. Other Welsh terms for wizard are: conjurer, magician, and charmer. The names of many dyn hysbys survive, and some were renowned beyond their time and place.

Note: In The Sin Eater's Prince, Owen Rhys, the sin eater, is discovered to be a dyn hysbys, his powers passed down through the generations.

Gwrach y Rhibyn, Hag of the Mist

The Welsh “Hag of the Dribble” or “Hag of the Mist” may suddenly leap out of a water channel, but otherwise she’ll invisibly stalk her victims until they pass a crossroads or stream. Here she’ll become all too visible and audible, for in both instances her cries, like those of the Banshee are harrowing. If the person thus doomed to die (either the observer or someone they know) is a man the The Hag will holler “Fy ngwr! Fy ngwr!” (“My Husband! My Husband!”) but if a youth is to succumb, then she’ll cry “Fy mlentyn! Fy mlentyn bach!” (“My child! My little child!”)

She is a hideous sight to behold, with her crooked back, hooked nose, long filthy hair and manic eyes. She is pinched and scrawny, yet her superficial mass likely betrays her true strength and vigor. The most frightfully inhuman of all her features, however, are her long thin arms, for not only do they end in dreadful talon-like hands, but black scaly wings also hang from these extremities. These bat-like appendages are thought capable of flight. Her negligible clothing is black and ragged.

About The Sin Eater’s Prince

The sin eater has been shunned by the local villagers all his life, except by Andras Maddock, the local physician. In love with the one man he believes will never return that love, Owen is shocked when Andras saves him from death at the hands of a vampire.

Dagan, Dark Lord of the Underworld, vows to avenge his father’s death and obtain the Prince of Wales’s mystic sword from Andras. The claymore’s power holds an immunity the vampires have coveted for centuries.

Star-crossed love, sorcery, and bloodlust collide on a vengeful path where only one side will remain victorious.

Keta Diablo lives in the Midwest part of the country on six acres of woodland. When she isn't writing or gardening she loves to commune with nature.
Keta is a multi-published author in both erotic romance and gay fiction. Her latest paranormal novel, Where The Rain Is Made, has been nominated for a Bookie Award by Authors After Dark in the Best e-novel category. Keta's books have also received numerous Top Pick, Book of the Month, and Recommended Read awards from the top professional review sites.
You can find her on the 'Net at the following places:
The Stuff of Myth and Men,

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Sun, Sea and LOTS of Fun!

By Louisa Masters (Guest Blogger)

A little over a year ago, I was lucky enough to visit Cairns in far-north Australia. Cairns is one of the best places to base yourself if you're going to visit the Great Barrier Reef, and I was seriously looking forward to it.

The first thing we did was book to go out to the reef. There are a lot of boats that do day trips. We chose a company that had its own pontoon. The boat takes you out to the pontoon, and from there you can snorkel, scuba dive, go into the underwater observatory, go out on the glass-bottomed boat, etc. They feed you lunch, and you're usually back in Cairns by five o'clock.

What struck me first about the cruise out to the reef? How incredibly fit the crew were. Mmmmm. Like, really, really fit. We got to the pontoon and the dive instructors put on their wetsuits, and my mind started racing. It was hot. Incredibly humid. The sun was beating down. I was surrounded by sexy bodies and sparkling, plot idea, anyone?

I still haven't been forgiven for insisting on a room service dinner so I could make notes, but I just had to. Especially because it just wasn't gelling together. My heroine was wrong, somehow. Eventually, I gave in to nagging and we went on an ice-cream break. It was about ten-thirty on a weekday night, and still incredibly hot and sticky. Cairns has a wonderful waterfront esplanade area—because it's not safe to swim in the ocean right there near the marina, they've built a series of wading and swimming pools with sand beaches, and there's a lovely park as well. We were strolling past the pools, which at that time of night were only sparsely populated, and I saw a couple of guys in the water, splashing each other. They seemed to be having a great time, and one of them tackled the other and dragged him under. They both came up sputtering and laughing, and then they kissed. And something in my head went click.

I've never written m/m before. I've read it extensively, but for some reason it just never stirred my muse. Until then, of course. Back to the hotel to make more notes and revise the old ones...and still it just wasn't right.

I shelved the whole project for a few months. I couldn't bring myself to start writing it when the concept just wasn't working for me.

And then, one day I was rummaging through my notebook, looking for something else (which I never found, by the way) and came upon my very sketchy outline. I skimmed it, misread a sentence, and realized what was missing. A third man. Click.

I've never written ménage before either, so this was a big step for me. I immediately began doing research, reading every m/m/m story that caught my interest. I hopped online, and plumbed the depths of information available there. And I wrote and deleted many scenes.

It took me a while, but I did eventually get the story the way I wanted it. My focus was to capture the hot, sultry weather, the laid-back environment, and the sheer excitement out on the reef. And to wrap it all up in a sexy package with a romantic ending, of course!

Diving in Deep by Louisa Masters

Cameron is sick of being a stereotypical nerd. In an attempt to “reinvent” himself, he takes three months off for a holiday in Australia—something the old Cameron would never do.

Troy and Jake are in a committed relationship. Co-owners of Sail Away, a water sport and cruising company, their life is about sun, sea and each other.

Neither Troy nor Jake have ever participated in a menage, but after a day out on the water, both are fantasizing about sandwiching Cameron between them. Cameron has never been with a man but can’t stop thinking about the hunky couple, and how they’d look, naked and entwined. When he walks in on them having sex in the underwater observatory, he can’t look away—and then they invite him to join in.

Will the old Cameron sink in uncharted territory? Or will the new Cameron find himself diving in deep?


The bell over the door dinged, and Jake glanced up from the computer. Any distraction from the bookkeeping was welcome. He smiled at Troy. Was it that time already? 

“Hey,” his lover said, crossing the room and leaning across the desk. Jake met him halfway, planting a quick, hard kiss on those soft lips. A sharply indrawn breath drew his attention to the man who’d followed Troy into the office.

“Hey, yourself.” Jake pulled back and nodded to the stranger. “Going to introduce me to your friend?”

Troy half-turned. “Sure. Jake Paulson, Cameron Hall. Cameron came out to the pontoon with us today, and now he wants to get his dive certificate.”

Jake reached for the drawer where they kept the list of reputable dive instructors. “No problem. We have a list of some excellent dive companies. I’ll make a copy for you.”

Troy cleared his throat and looked away. “Actually, I said we’d give him the lessons.”

Jake’s hand froze on the drawer handle. What the hell? “Oh.” He raised an eyebrow, but Troy’s gaze was fixed on the desk. “Okay. Um, what arrangement did you make?”

They didn’t do certification lessons. He studied the stranger—Cameron. He was kind of gangly and had a very faint tan, probably as a result of the day on the water. His hair was the same shade between blond and brown as Troy’s, but Troy spent so much time outdoors that the sun had streaked his with gold.

Cameron fiddled with his watch. “Troy said you’d work that out.”

“Did he?” Jake glanced at Troy, who made a sheepish face.

“Yeah. Uh, I thought he could come out on the boat with the regular day-trippers, and you or I could do his lessons. At a reasonable rate?” The questioning lift to his last sentence was accompanied by his puppy-dog look, the one Jake could never resist.

His gaze met Troy’s mocha-latte colored eyes, and his stomach did its usual flip. He sighed. “Sure. Sit down, Cameron, and we’ll work something out.”

Troy grinned, shooting him a grateful look, and the hairs on the back of Jake’s neck stood on end. Why did this matter so much to Troy? He turned his attention back to Cameron as the man sat in one of the visitor’s chairs. Cameron’s hazel eyes gazed back at him.

Diving in Deep will be released by The Wild Rose Press on August 3rd as part of their Boys of Summer series. In the meantime, please check out my other titles!

Louisa lives in Melbourne, Australia, where she has a long-standing love affair with the sensual pleasures of life: wine, bubble baths, ice-cream and books. Nothing gives an illicit thrill like reading a sexy story on the train while those around you are oblivious. Get into a sexy state of mind and feel that thrill with Louisa’s books! 

Visit her website, like her on facebook, and follow her on twitter. 

Louisa also writes mainstream romance as Olivia Ventura

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Murder Most Deadly

By Jon Michaelsen (Guest Blogger)

Thank you, Lisabet, for inviting me to your blog. Your reputation precedes you! I was incredibly excited when you reached out to me to participate in the Quarantine Blog Tour. I’m really looking forward to reading the novel and I’ve heard from many who are just as excited for your new release.

That being said, I’ve taken you up on your offer to come for a visit and greatly appreciate you suggesting I hang out with you at Beyond Romance to chat a little about me and my recent release.

I write mystery/suspense, thriller and romance novels whose main characters are gay. While this doesn't define or limit my characters, it does provide excellent opportunities for exciting plots with a twist. Many diverse writers have influenced my style; among them are David Baldacci, John Grisham and Michael Crichton and groundbreaking gay novelists Patricia Nell Warren, Michael Nava and Felice Picano, also current gay mystery writers Greg Herren, David Lennon, William J Mann and Michael Thomas Ford.

I have just released my latest novella, False Evidence: Murder Most Deadly 1, an erotic romance/thriller with a twist. Next up is a paranormal romance novella, Prince Of The Sea, set for release later this year. A southern Georgia native, I live in Atlanta with my life-long partner of 26 years and four monstrous terriers!

Below are excerpts of reviews, a blurb and excerpt from False Evidence: Murder Most Deadly 1

What others are saying about False Evidence...

"Michaelson has written quite a book here and once I began I did not leave my chair until I closed the covers..." Amos Lassen

"Interesting foray into the obsessive mind, which is right up my nightmare alley...Still, highly recommended." Author, Rick R. Reed.

Once in a while, I stumble upon a book so wonderful, so expertly written and so engrossing that it reinforces my faith in the entire genre” Graham Adams - M/M Romance Reviews

“…I wound up reading it in full….there was a ring of reality I don't see often enough. I have known characters like this in real life, where they get involved with someone thinking it's all going to be innocent and it winds up becoming something they never expected..." Author of Chase f A Lifetime and the popular Virgin Billionaire series, Ryan Field.


What begins as a cursory glance at the high-rise apartment opposite soon becomes something much darker and far more dangerous.

For bored accountant, Kevin Mitchell, lusting after gorgeous, muscular Tony in the adjacent building, builds into a life changing obsession.

When Tony shows up at Kevin’s apartment, bloody and bruised, Kevin offers him instant refuge…and a place in his bed. However, all is not what it seems and the police draw a different conclusion in their hunt for a violent killer.

Will Kevin’s plea of false evidence save him from the horror of a life behind bars?


Kevin’s fantasy drew him in more and more. His days at the office began to drag along and often left him exhausted and miserable by the end of the workday. He stopped going out to lunch with Alice, choosing instead to pack a bite to eat in order to end his day at work earlier. His evenings alone and awake ran on to well after midnight. Sleep, when it came, became fits of restlessness until it was time to get up and head to the office. He spent any spare time he had peering out the windows hoping to catch a glimpse of the stranger across the way, always craving just one more look to satisfy his unquenchable thirst before calling it a night.

Within the week, Kevin had purchased a camera and tripod. Five days later, he added a telephoto lens and other items. Before long, he’d amassed a stellar collection of photographs capturing the imagines of an abstracted, young man in his prime and oblivious to the attention he’d reaped from a neighboring high-rise.

The quest for satisfaction consumed Kevin. He all but ignored his responsibilities at work and at home. His actions became irresponsible, even voyeuristic, and ignited desires that he didn’t know he possessed. His boss expressed dissatisfaction with his tardiness and increasing mistakes, but he made excuses for his lack of focus. Friends calling his home found nothing but an answer machine and returned calls never happened. He even gave Alice the cold shoulder when she voiced concern, but Kevin didn’t care. He slipped deeper and deeper into a compulsion he didn’t see, convinced all the while he could stop the spying on his neighbor at any time.

* * * *

By early May, Kevin had settled into a routine of spying on the man of his dreams, laying out a daily ritual of surveillance that played against a backdrop of reality. He knew when to catch the guy working out with free-weights in his bedroom, sunbathing on the terrace, or even when the dude might pass before the windows after taking a shower.

So it came as somewhat of a shock when the blinds across the street began opening and closing at irregular intervals and the lights in the apartment burned well into the evening hours two nights in a row. Mr. Adonis roamed freely throughout the penthouse, more frequently without a stitch of clothing on his body. Kevin surmised the man’s companion had gone away for a while on a business trip, or perhaps to visit relatives.

Whatever the case, the idea and new-found impudence to introduce himself to the young man prevailed and Kevin took time off work. He cleaned his home from top to bottom and stowed the camera equipment away. He spent the next few days sunning on the terrace, hoping to catch the guy’s attention, moving the floral canopy out of the way to create a clear view. Kevin’s body was lean and tight, but not as muscular as he was tall. More endowed than most, he filled the tiny swimsuit he sported in hopes of catching the stranger’s attention.

On the third day, Kevin finally received the acknowledgement from the man he’d hoped for. A subtle nod, soon led to a flirtatious smile and movement of the man’s mouth, unable to hear his words Kevin smiled and raised his hands palms skyward. The guy pointed down toward the street, an invitation that Kevin accepted with an upright thumb...

You can find more information about me and my writing at my website ( and (

I’ll also provide the same generous offer Lisabet did - everyone who leaves a comment via my blog will be entered into a drawing to receive a FREE ebook copy of False Evidence: Murder Most Deadly 1.

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Quarantine Snog 3 - Rescue

Here's another quick kiss from Quarantine. I don't want to give away too much of the plot. Suffice it to say that Dylan's in trouble again, and once more, Rafe comes to his aid.

Don't forget to visit Victoria's place for more sizzling kisses (and other mouth-related action...!) And remember, every comment you leave here, or on any post during my July Man-fest, counts as an entry toward my giveaway of a $50 gift certificate.


“Urgh…” Dylan released a groan that turned into a cough. His eyelids fluttered open. “Rafe…” he whispered. “You found me.”

“Damn straight I did. You think I was going to just let you go and be some white honcho’s sex slave?” Rafe hid his concern in gruffness. Dylan looked really ill.

“But how—?”

“Never mind. We’ve got to get out of here.” Rafe pulled out a penknife and began sawing at the leather ankle-cuff.

“Um…I don’t know if I can move just yet.” A shadow of Dylan’s usual cheeky smile flitted across his face. “Anyway, Kevin won’t be back until tonight.”

“Kevin? You’re on a first name basis with the prick?” Rafe halted his attack on the cuff to glare at Dylan. All his insecurities came flooding back. “Did he fuck you?”

“No, no… I told him no, Rafe.” Dylan voice was edged with anxiety.

“And he listened to you? When he had you hogtied and at his mercy? You expect me to believe that?”

A haze of red clouded Rafe’s vision. “A slutty little perv like you? I saw you in his eP rig, humping away—”

“It’s true, baby.” With obvious effort, Dylan pushed himself to a sitting position and held Rafe’s accusing gaze. “I won’t say he didn’t touch me. And I won’t claim I wasn’t tempted, especially when it seemed like it might help me get away. But I told him I belonged to you. Honestly, Rafe. He said you’d been captured, but I refused to listen.” Dylan’s eyes had a liquid gleam. “I’m so grateful you’re okay. I was worried…”

“You think you were worried?” Rafe leaned in, raised Dylan’s chin and claimed a kiss. The familiar taste scattered his negativity. “Oh, God! I thought I’d lost you forever.” He sealed the other man’s mouth with his once more.

Dylan seemed to draw energy from Rafe’s body. His fingers scrabbled at Rafe’s belt, pulling out the tail of his shirt, pushing it up to expose Rafe’s chest, stroking the knotted fur between his breasts. A gentle twist to Rafe’s nipple sent pleasure shuddering down to his groin. Already his cock thickened in his jeans. A quick glance revealed that despite his recent eP-fueled orgasm, Dylan was hard and ready, too.


Want more? Get your own copy of Quarantine!

Saturday, July 21, 2012

A Tropical Paradise

By Sage Marlowe (Guest Blogger)

First of all, thank you Lisabet for the invite! I’m delighted to be here and celebrate the release of your new book, Quarantine! I always love a party in the middle of the summer.

Yes, it’s July and where I live, this is the middle of the summer. So around here, it’s mostly hot and humid – not altogether a bad thing as we lovers of erotic romance surely agree on. You break a sweat as soon as you leave the house and quite regularly, even indoors. Sometimes more, sometimes less, depending on the level of activity.

Don’t get me wrong. I love summertime. Really. I love the heat, the feel of sunshine on my skin, warm, long evenings spent sitting outside. The drone of the neighbours’ hushed voices as they stand around chatting. The buzzing sound of a bumble bee passing by. Garden parties. Barbeques. Ice cold beverages – cocktails, preferably. Sparsely dressed people. All that makes summer my favourite time of the year but what I’m really, really missing around here are a beach and the sea. White sand and glittering waves underneath a blistering, bright blue sky. A little tropical paradise, so to speak. Now that would be a truly perfect scenario – for me, that is. However, it seems that not everybody shares my fondness of heat and sunshine, or wishes themselves into a tropical paradise.

Riordan, one of the heroes in my latest release, A Taste of Paradise, is definitely not pleased at all when he suddenly finds himself in one of the most beautiful spots on the planet. For him, holidays are a waste of time, and the heat only makes him break a sweat which threatens to ruin his business suit. In short, Riordan is the kind of guy who, for all his life, has chosen his career over feelings. He prefers to have even the most basic emotional needs satisfied with the help of professionals but his attitude gets challenged when a wrong flight booking on a business trip takes him to a peaceful little tropical island instead of his intended destination. Finding himself stranded for a week, he meets Marc, a social worker with summer-sky blue eyes, a sunny look at life and a heart bruised by too many inconsiderate lovers – lovers like Riordan. They begin an affair which to Riordan is nothing but a suitable arrangement and Marc knows his own weaknesses well enough to realise that his instant attraction to Riordan only proves that they don't stand a chance - but maybe one involuntary taste of paradise is all it takes to change their lives.

A Taste of Paradise by Sage Marlowe, released July 14, 2012 by Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Find out more on Sage’s website:

Bio: Sage takes romance to the edge. The edge of passion, the edge of pleasure, the edge of propriety.

Hopelessly in love with books from a very early age on, Sage has dreamt of writing one for years while working on the day job instead. It took a very persistent character in the company of a much-adored Muse to finally get the first novel going. The fact that this gorgeous guy was gay came as a bit of a surprise, but it explained a lot.

Ever since, Sage has been the willing slave to all the fascinating guys who just keep queuing up and want their stories told. This has resulted in several manuscripts at various stages of completion, so there's always something to work on - preferably at night when the rest of the house is asleep.

Sage's characters often have a dramatic and sometimes traumatic past and need to battle some demons to be with the one they love. It doesn't hurt that they usually get quite a lot of naughty action along the way!

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

An Interview with Rafe Cowell

Rafe Cowell is Quarantine's second hero – although a reluctant one. We'll let him tell his story in his own words.

Interviewer: You were one of two human guards working at the Camp Malheur quarantine facility. How did you end up there?

Rafe: Back in Ellay, a guy from a rival gang was bumped off. I ended up taking the rap. But I had nothing to do with it, I swear. Anyway, the so-called public defender swore she'd get me off if I named names. Fat chance. They found me guilty anyway – but told me I could serve two years as a quarantine guard instead of ten years in jail. I jumped at the chance. Didn't know what a hell hole the camp was! Sometimes I think I should've chosen the can.

Interview: But then you wouldn't have met Dylan.

Rafe: Yeah, right. I guess I should be glad, even though that smart ass kid pretty much turned my life upside down.

Interviewer: So, before Dylan, did you ever fantasize about sex with a man?

Rafe: Are you shitting me? What do you think? I was a red-blooded American guy who liked women with nice, fat butts. I knew the queers were sick, just like everyone said. Maybe the Plague was just another sign of that sickness. Anyone who even hinted that I liked men would have ended up with a bloody nose, or worse. I still don't understand how Dylan changed me so much.

Interviewer: Well, I'd imagine you were lonely and horny, stuck in the middle of nowhere.

Rafe: That wasn't it. I tried to tell myself that was why I fell for Dyl, but it's a lie. And it wasn't the boy's sexy ass, either. No, something about him – I don't know – touched me, somehow. He was so intelligent, so brave, and you know, so desperate for freedom. I wanted to hate him, to think of him like the dirt the Guardians told us he was. I just couldn't.

Interviewer: So you helped him to escape.

Rafe: (laughter) I tried, anyway! Dylan's a bit cocky - you might have noticed if you interviewed him already. He's brilliant, sure. But maybe not quite as much of a genius as he thinks. So we had this great plan, but he forgot one important detail. He nearly died because of that.

Interviewer: I gather you've come to his rescue a number of times – for example, when he was kidnapped by Kevin Randall.

Rafe: Dylan does get his ass into trouble! But you know, it feels so good when I can help him. I grew up with everyone telling me I was a piece of shit, so I kind of believed it. Dylan made me see that I could be strong and smart as anyone. I'll tell you the truth, man – nobody's ever cared about me the way Dylan does.

Interviewer: Does that mean you've forgiven him for leading you on so that he could get out of the camp? For seducing you? Making you into a fag?

Rafe: Who are you calling a fag? (pause) Sorry. I guess you're just winding me up, right? It's still hard to think about the way we started. When he's not around, I start to wonder. Does he really give a shit about me? Is he with somebody else? But I have to believe him when he says he loves me. Without that trust – well, we wouldn't have anything, would we?

Interviewer: No, I guess not. So, Rafe, is there anything else you'd like to share before we end this interview?

Rafe: Hmm. Life's been tough since Dyl and I got together. But I don't regret it – any of it. Let 'em say that I'm as much of a pervert as he is. I don't care. When we're together, the whole world just goes away. Everything bad and ugly and painful – it all just disappears. There's just him and me, in this pure, bright place.

And I think that's the way it's supposed to be.

Interviewer: Thank you, Rafe, for being so open. I just want to remind visitors that they can read your entire story in Quarantine. And if they'd like more insight into you and Dylan and your unusual love affair, there are more than a dozen excerpts posted as part of the Quarantine blog tour. Furthermore, every comment on any post here at Beyond Romance counts as an entry for the blog tour grand prize, a $50 gift certificate.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Quarantine Snog 2 - Oral Pleasures

I've got another snog from Quarantine for you today. Since Victoria's snogging rules allow any mouth to body contact, I'm moving firmly into X-rated territory with this excerpt.

If you haven't done so already, please visit Blisse Snog Central to read all the other tasty kisses offered by my fellow authors. And don't forget that every comment you leave on any post at Beyond Romance this month, up until July 28th, qualifies as an entry for my Quarantine Blog Hop grand prize of a $50 All Romance Ebooks gift certificate! (Don't forget to leave your email address in the comment!)

Meanwhile, I'm giving away a free ebook at every stop of the Blog Hop. You can find the schedule in my July newsletter:

Now on to the snog!


Rafe rammed his prick into Dylan’s mouth, seeking heat and wetness. Meanwhile, he opened wide and engulfed his lover’s cock, sliding his lips down the length. The taut skin was velvety and smooth. He thought he could feel Dylan’s pulse against his tongue. He licked at the warm, ripe flesh. It felt so alive, so full, ready to burst.

He’d never tasted a man’s cum, but he wanted to now. He rocked his hips up and down, letting Dylan feast on his meat. Meanwhile, he suckled the other man’s organ, mimicking the tricks Dylan used, that he was using now in fact, to drag Rafe to the very edge of control. Pleasure welled up and threatened to overflow, but Rafe didn’t plan to come yet. No, he needed to hold on until he made Dylan shoot. It was a matter of honour.

The white guy was close. Rafe bore down, tilting his head back to lengthen his throat. Dylan arched in response, slamming his bulb against Rafe’s palate. Rafe fought the urge to choke. He knew how good it felt to let everything rip, to drive your cock deep, as deep as you could, to ravage someone’s willing mouth, holding nothing back, nothing…

Without warning, or at least any that he recognised, yeasty fluid filled his mouth. He coughed and swallowed. Dylan’s cock convulsed, spitting out more gobs of warm liquid. Rafe gulped down as much as he could, the remnants leaking from the corners of his lips. The odd taste, the unfamiliar sensations, and most of all, the knowledge that he’d sucked his lover to climax, all combined to take him over the edge. With one last thrust, he let go.

The pleasure was round and full, different somehow from his usual wild, jagged orgasms. It surged up from his depths, powerful, irresistible, sweeping away every thought in a blissful tide of satisfaction. For what seemed like hours, the waves rolled through him, pleasure swirling up from his balls and out onto Dylan’s tongue.

Rafe collapsed on top of his lover. Dylan’s cock slipped out from between his bruised lips. His face was sticky with jizz. His arms muscles screamed from exertion. He felt Dylan’s cat-like tongue, lapping the last drops of semen from his own dick.

He’d never been happier.


Buy your own copy of Quarantine today!

Saturday, July 14, 2012

In Memory of My Dad

By Berengaria Brown (Guest Blogger)

When I was small my Mom was quite ill. My Dad had never had to look after me for more than an hour or two at a time until then, and he wasn’t too sure what to do with me. The first day he bought me a wonderful set of blocks with bridges, and towers, and awesome things in the box, and I played with them all day. I’m pretty sure he enjoyed playing with them too. At least for the first hour or so. But by the second day he was once again at a loss to know what to do with me. 

He loved reading, so he sat me down and taught me to read. I was already fascinated that the black squiggles on the pages of my books actually meant something, and picked up the idea fairly quickly. My Mom was ill for several months. Long before she had gotten better I was reading voraciously. All the kids’ books I owned, I could now read, and I read them over and over. When I got tired of that, Dad took me down to the local library, and signed me up for a membership card. That worked well for several years, until I’d read everything in the children’s section. Dad didn’t even blink. He just handed me his adult borrower card and I started to read the adult collection.

Some people were horrified that I might read something that little girls shouldn’t know about. Dad wasn’t worried. “If she doesn’t understand it, it won’t hurt her. And if she knows what it means, there’s no need to hide it from her”, he said.

Likely that explains why I write FF, and MM, and ménage, as well as MF romance. I like to read all genres so that’s what I write.

Aquamarine: Courage and Comfort by Berengaria Brown


Edmund’s sister Mavis was tragically widowed by a hit-and-run driver, when her husband was rushing to the hospital for the birth of their son. Now Mavis can’t cope with the loss of her husband and a new fatherless baby to care for.

Mavis’ friend, AJ, tells Edmund that he and his partner, Utah, must go and retrieve an aquamarine. The stone will bring courage and comfort to Mavis. It will hold the spirit of her dead husband and she will be able to rear their son and have a fulfilling life.

Only lovers can find the stone. Edmund and Utah are a little skeptical, but very willing to try.

PG13 Excerpt

Utah just smiled at his partner. Edmund had all the confidence in the world, and likely some naughty plan in mind. Well, they'd soon see just how doable his plans were. One of the things Utah loved about Edmund was his insouciant acceptance of sex as an integral part of daily life. And Utah's dick was always ready to get involved in sex with Edmund!

Even just looking at Edmund in that tight, body-hugging wetsuit, made Utah's cock grow and harden, and his balls tighten. Down boy he thought widening his stance a little to ease the pressure on his equipment. First we find this mystical aquamarine for Mavis. Then we fuck each other's brains out.

The more he thought about it, the crazier it sounded. Here on a public beach where dozens, even hundreds, of people swam every day, they were going to swim out to a sandbar and find a precious stone. They would then give this stone to Edmund's sister, and with no other help -- no therapy, no psychiatrists, no lawyers, nothing else at all -- she would accept the loss of her husband and focus on rearing her kid. When he put it like that, it almost sounded like he was the one who needed a good therapist. Deluded didn't come close to explaining the lack of logic in those thoughts. Ah well, all he could do was support Edmund. AJ had made it quite plain Edmund would not succeed if Utah wasn't there with him. And anyway, he wanted to be with Edmund. Wanted to help him.

Shrugging his shoulders he swung around to look at Edmund. "Are you ready to go fetch this rock?"

"Yes, sure. But how are we supposed to recognize it?"

"Hell if I know. Isn't it supposed to call to you, or something?"

Bio: Berengaria is a multi-published author of erotic romance: contemporary, paranormal (magic, ghosts, vampires, fairies, dragons, and werewolves), futuristic, medieval, and Regency-set historical. She loves to read all different kinds of romance so that is what she writes: one man/one woman; two women; two men; two men/one woman; three men, two women/one man, three men/one woman…. Whatever the characters need for their very hot happily-ever-after, Berengaria makes sure they get it.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Off the Shelf - Free on Amazon

I know I said that July was going to be exclusively  devoted to M/M erotica and romance here at Beyond Romance, but my good friend Lucy Felthouse asked for help in getting the word out about her free book, and I really couldn't say no. Anyway, I know you're all interested in free reading!

Lucy's erotic romance novella, Off the Shelf, is FREE on Amazon for a limited time. 

From 11th – 15th July ONLY, you will be able to download this hot erotic romance to your Kindle without spending a penny.

Already convinced? Grab it here:


Need more convincing? Here's more about the book:

At 35, travel writer Annalise is fed up with insensitive comments about being left on the shelf. It’s not as if she doesn’t want a man, but her busy career doesn’t leave her much time for relationships. Sexy liaisons with passing acquaintances give Annalise physical satisfaction, but she needs more than that. She wants a man who will satisfy her mind as well as her body. But where will she find someone like that? It seems Annalise may be in luck when a new member of staff starts working in the bookshop at the airport she regularly travels through. Damien appears to tick all the boxes; he’s gorgeous, funny and intelligent, and he shares Annalise’s love of books and travel. The trouble is, Damien’s shy and Annalise is terrified of rejection. Can they overcome their fears and admit their feelings, or are they doomed to remain on the shelf?

And a saucy excerpt to get you going...

Pushing the ‘on’ button, Annalise moved the vibrator down between her parted legs and eased it inside her eager pussy. As the ears of the Rampant Rabbit slid into position on her clit, she groaned with pleasure and rolled her hips, desperate to get more delicious friction. Then she pressed another button on the toy’s control panel to ramp up the power another notch. As much as she’d prefer a slower build-up to her orgasm, she just didn’t have the time. She had to leave for the airport in a couple of hours, and she hadn’t even packed her case. A quick knee-trembler would have to suffice.
As the vibrator buzzed away between her thighs, Annalise closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind of anything but the pleasure she was experiencing. After a brief flirtation with the thought that she’d much prefer a hot man between her legs bringing her to orgasm, Annalise simply enjoyed the feeling of her impending climax. The busily-vibrating bunny ears pressed tightly against her sensitive flesh soon had her pussy fluttering. Then, without warning, Annalise was quickly yanked onto her pleasure plateau and immediately pushed off, leaving her writhing and shouting on the bed as a powerful orgasm overtook her body.
Annalise arched her back as waves of pleasure crashed over her, and her cunt clenched and grabbed at the toy buried deep inside. Her swollen clit throbbed, quickly becoming too sensitive for the unrelenting stimulation from the vibrator. Switching it off and pulling out, Annalise dropped the toy onto the mattress by her side and gave a satisfied moan as she rode out the remainder of her climax. Finally, when the twitches and spasms had abated and her heart rate and breathing were almost back to normal, Annalise grabbed the Rabbit and rolled across to the side of her bed where the toy box was kept. She made short but thorough work of cleaning it, then reluctantly put it in its case, popped it into the small bedside cupboard and shut the door.
Annalise hated leaving her favourite toy behind when she went away, but she just wasn’t brave enough to take it with her. She usually only took carry-on luggage, and the very thought of the distinctive shape of the Rampant Rabbit popping up on the screen of the airport scanners made her shudder. It would be bad enough for the staff to see it on their monitors, knowing what it was and giving her knowing looks; imagine what would happen if they decided to check inside her bags! She would want to curl up and die of embarrassment, she just knew it.
No, it was much better off staying here. She could make do with her right hand for a few days. Even better, she might even meet someone. Annalise smiled. She’d had some pretty steamy encounters on her travels. The desk clerk in Dubai, the gym manager in Turkey, the waiter in Corfu…
Annalise shook herself. This wasn’t the time to let her mind wander down that path and get herself all worked up. She had to go and get ready now. There’d be plenty of time for daydreaming later, when she was in long and boring queues, and on the flight.
So go on, what are you waiting for? Bag your copy quick, while it's FREE! And if you like it, be sure to leave a review for others to read.



Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story - so she did. It went down a storm and she's never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, Decadent Publishing, Evernight Publishing, House of Erotica, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour, Seducing the Myth, Smut by the Sea and Smut in the City. Find out more at Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: