Saturday, November 30, 2013

Too Many Viewpoints?

By Kay Dee Royal (Guest Blogger)

Hello everyone;)

Hi, Lisabet, thank you so much for allowing me to share my post at your place ;) Feels nice and cozy here…and I like the idea of kicking back and relaxing with like-minded people.
Okay…on to my subject – Erotic Romance with many viewpoints – too many?

Viewpoints drew my attention about fifteen years ago when I read an amazing series of maybe eleven or twelve books. The series wasn’t romance, but the subject interested me at the time.
Book one of the series included maybe three or four viewpoints, which honestly kept me turning the pages, like many mini stories in one book. Then, I discovered with each new book in that series there were more viewpoints because there were more story-stars introduced. I loved the concept, it made for page turning reading, never a dull moment, and knowing everyone’s thoughts without going omniscient (which I find difficult to read with my relentless editor eye).

Little did I realize reading those multiple viewpoints impacted me as an author/writer, before I ever wrote my first story. The books had to do with a group, not unlike my Lycan International Investigation Agency. It was as if I followed a number of relationships from their meager beginnings, being privy to the middle or their unfolding, and then realizing its ultimate fruition ;)

How each relationship affected another as in the LIIA werewolf pack—their show of loyalties, love, lust, dedication, emotional pain—and how each story-star handled it through their personal viewpoint.

In Romance 101 *smiles* we were taught to use only one or two points of view – like the heroine and hero…and possibly a villain if the story had one.

My series ignored these rules, but then again, maybe it didn’t. Every point of view related to another, as in many heroes and heroines and it read like a TV series—the one that came to mind was Vampire Diaries—although the LIIA series is nothing like that series, it does have many love relationships, ergo many heroes and heroines…oh, and one very bad-assed villain.

So, my question to you, how do you like your romance…many intertwining viewpoints or a couple of viewpoints that lead you through the story?

Savage Smoke – Book 2 Lycan International Investigation Series
Genre: Erotic Paranormal Romance
Sizzling HOT! Warning: Lots of two-somes, three-somes, even more-somes, like it stimulating, arousing, and positively natural…or supernatural.


Will Trevor rescue Lindsey in time to save her from shifting into Smoke’s pack, and will she even want saved?
Chance and his LIIA pack of agents search for rogue Lycan mastermind, Smoke, kidnapper of Lindsey and fifteen other human women he plans to use for procreating his own army.

Trevor, Chance’s right-hand Lycan, wants his mate back, but believes she’s fallen for her captor. Lindsey loves Trevor but believes he’s given up on her.

Will Trevor come around in time to rescue Lindsey and save her from shifting into Smoke’s pack, and will she even want back with Trevor after spending so long apart?

Also available at many other fine e-book stores.

Short Excerpt:

So far, Smoke didn’t share Lindsey with other males, but she was aware of the orgies inside the central building. She heard a few women talk of them. Some even liked them, being surrounded by hard-bodied men hung like rocket launchers. Those women went at it without the use of the stimulation drug Smoke used on everyone else.

She was used to the little needle pricks and welcomed them. It made acting the part with Smoke so much easier, believing in her heart Trevor made love to her, but guarding that fact from Smoke by holding Trevor’s name in the secret place, locked safely away.

Lindsey understood some of the sexual attraction. She had that once, but she couldn’t go there in her mind. Smoke searched her thoughts almost daily and always found if she’d tapped into any memory nuggets of people she loved. He possessed psychic abilities others didn’t. Already, the thoughts of Trevor that had emerged she’d need to bury before Smoke returned.

If an orgy ensued during their pack meeting, Smoke would be preoccupied for a good while. She reached her arm underneath the mattress, where a few weeks ago she saw Smoke slide his journal. Lindsey had fallen asleep with her back to the fireplace. A crack of thunder wakened her in time to witness Smoke closing a journal and placing it beneath the mattress they shared.

Lindsey touched its leather cover, wrapped her fingers around it, and hauled it out.

Staring Into the Eyes of Chance – Book 1 Lycan International Investigation Series
Genre: Erotic Paranormal Romance

Sizzling HOT! Warning: Wild and lust-filled love scenes, extra stimulating, arousing, and positively natural…or supernatural.

Olivia swears off men until she meets Chance, a Lycan alpha. He ignites an undeniable hunger they can only sate together.


Olivia endures a thirty-four year passionless marriage, discovering her dead husband’s philandering history at his funeral. She devotes her energy and life-long sensitivity with animals to her wildlife refuge and preserve.

Chance, a Lycan alpha and leader of the Lycan International Investigation Agency (LIIA) throws himself into his investigations. He chooses to neglect his duty of finding a primal-mate after watching his father become an empty shell over the loss of his.

A murderous rogue pack draws Chance onto Olivia’s wildlife preserve, sending Olivia’s animal sensitivities into overdrive. Chance and Olivia discover a sizzling force driving them together.

Will they succumb to its enticing tether, or fight to resume their loveless lives apart?

Also available at many other fine e-book stores.

About Kay Dee Royal
Kay Dee Royal writes paranormal, fantasy, and contemporary erotic romance—maybe because they’re also her favorite genres to read! She pens tales with wild, rugged heroes and strong, intelligent heroines. She'll give them both a few shadowy secrets, making her stories intriguing and fun. She resides in Southern Michigan with her family (her dogs, her cats, her caged husband... you get the idea). You can find the latest on her titles from her publisher, MuseItHot.

Friday, November 29, 2013

Sexy Professors

By Normandie Alleman (Guest Blogger)

What is it about Professors that make them so sexy? 
For one, they are forbidden, and forbidden love is delightfully juicy. (Think Romeo and Juliet) And we all know professors are not supposed to canoodle with their students. So when we sit through their often less-than-stimulating lectures, it’s much more fun to let our minds go to naughty places and imagine what they would be like behind closed doors.

Then there’s the “older man” dynamic that many are so drawn to. We tend to think of professors as experienced, worldly. And that’s hot. Perhaps he can teach us things we don’t already know. Many would like to be the student who is taught the mysterious joys of lovemaking by an older, wiser teacher who is a master in the game of love.

I used to believe that “serious” men were boring in the love department. I thought you had to have dashing bad boys for real excitement. Once I realized the folly of that assumption, I decided to write a story that incorporated the idea that a nice, responsible guy can still heat up the bedroom. Deciding he would be a professor, well, that was an easy choice.

In this story, it’s the wild, adventurous student who seduces her Professor, not the other way around. She expects to wow him, believing he will be the one to learn something from her, but he surprises her when he pulls her over his knee and spanks her for her bratty behavior. The couple embarks on a sizzling journey towards a D/s relationship while outside circumstances threaten to tear them apart.

Blurb for The Professor’s Plaything
Twenty-one year old Colette Ellis has done plenty of daydreaming about Professor John McGill, but after a spur-of-the-moment decision to seduce him in his office turns her fantasies into reality, she is left longing for more.

She soon learns that this handsome academic can be as firm as he is passionate, and when her bratty behavior earns her a sound spanking she sees a side of him she never expected. Before she knows it, the beautiful young woman finds herself tied up at his mercy, naked, exposed, and more aroused than she could have ever imagined. As she grows closer to him, she cannot help but wonder how long this can last. Could John come to see her as more than just a naughty coed?

John has never fallen for a student… until now. There is something different about Colette, something that brings him alive in a way he has never felt before. Can he dare to hope that she is after more than just a fling?


Colette frowned. Things were not going the way she’d hoped. She needed some serious research experience, and she hoped to obtain a glowing recommendation from Professor McGill. She really wished someone had told her about all this before she spent the first three years of college funneling beer and hanging out with frat boys. She was in a mess.

If Professor McGill wasn’t going to be able to help her, she had no idea what she could do. All her options had disappeared, and it felt as if the walls were closing in on her. Tears began to well up in her eyes.

The Professor peered over his glasses at her. “Is there anything else?”

He seemed so eager to get rid of her sitting there in his button-down shirt, all serious and mature. Much more mature than any of the boys she’d dated. This man operated at a different level than the party boys she knew.

The combination of his blunt rejection of both her presence and her offer to do more research, sent her unshed tears spilling down her cheeks.

When he saw she was crying, he searched the room for some tissues. Retrieving some from a table in the center of the room, he handed her the box.

She dabbed her eyes and sniffled. “Thanks, that’s sweet of you. I’m okay. Sorry about that.”

What’s the matter?” he looked both concerned and horrified, like he’d never had a crying girl in his office before and he had no idea what to do.

I’m just having a difficult time. I’ve been rejected by all the grad schools I’ve applied to, and I guess the pressure is getting to me.”

Why don’t you sit down?” He gestured to a couch that was covered with books and papers. Seeing there wasn’t room for anyone to sit there, he started moving the books and papers to the table where the tissues had been. “Sorry about the mess.”

That’s okay,” she said sitting down. She understood. Her bedroom was a disaster area.
He sat beside her. “I wish I had more work on the research project for you, but we won’t be moving onto the next phase until Fall and I already have the people in place I need.”

She nodded, suddenly aware that his thigh was centimeters from touching hers. His biceps bulged against the fabric of his shirt and she wondered how she could have missed noticing how muscular he was when she’d been in his class. Maybe he’d started working out since then.

He continued to talk about his research, but she was distracted by how hot he looked with those studious glasses and his sexy Van Dyke beard. When she had been a student in his class, Colette had daydreamed about Professor McGill all through class and whenever she passed him in the hallways. She’d wondered what it would be like to kiss him, to feel his beard tickle her chin.

Then something inside her snapped. All the desperation, all the rejections, all the uncertainty she faced came crashing down on her. Watching his delicious lips move while he talked, she recognized an opportunity.

Feeling like she had nothing to lose, she leaned over and pressed her lips to his.

He grabbed her upper arms and she thought he was going to push her away. Instead, he responded to her kiss.
Forwardly her tongue darted between his lips, and he began to explore her mouth, a short groan springing forth from his throat.

Emboldened by his reaction to her advances, Colette placed a hand on top of his thigh, her heart beating faster in her chest. She allowed her hand to travel up his leg and rest on his crotch. The bulge in his pants was clear evidence that he found her attractive.
Colette slid onto the floor, positioning herself between his knees. Her blue eyes met his green ones. “I really appreciate you letting me work on your project,” she fawned, deciding if she kept talking, perhaps he wouldn’t send her away. Easier to talk about his blasted research project than what was happening between them. “You really have been helpful.”

I’m glad,” he choked out looking a bit dazed.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. What if he pulled away? Or worse, what if he kicked her out of his office? Reported her to the dean, or whoever?

Remembering that he’d kissed her back, Colette summoned all her courage before reaching up and tugging at the zipper on his pants.

About the Author

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

Follow her on:

Twitter at @NormandieA

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Why I'm Not Rich

On my recent trip back home to the U.S., I had dinner with my cousin. She and I were really close when we were kids, and I've never understood why we haven't kept in better touch, because whenever we do meet, it's always fabulous.

Anyway, as we were enjoying our gourmet pizza and craft beer, she said: "You're so incredibly smart. Why aren't you rich?"

I had to laugh. I apparently still have my childhood reputation within the family as a genius, though I haven't exactly achieved fame or fortune because of my intellect. I mean, I haven't won the Nobel prize or discovered a cure for cancer, the way I thought I might. But then her question got me thinking. I realized that at least one reason I'm not rich is that I've never tried to be. Wealth for its own sake has never, ever been a personal goal.

It's not that I don't know the value of money. I've been supporting myself since my mid-twenties, and count myself as financially responsible. I work hard and I appreciate being well-compensated. As long as I have enough to meet my needs though (which are fairly modest, at least by some people's standards), I don't care that much about having more. I mean, I wouldn't be unhappy to win a lottery or receive an unexpected inheritance, but I don't spend much time thinking about that. Other things are more important to me.

The really rich people in the world - people like Bill Gates, Warren Buffet, Carl Icahn, Carlos Slim - have put a huge amount of mental and emotional energy into the process of becoming rich, probably since they were quite young. They understand money. They love (I suspect) money. They find the process of pursuing wealth to be satisfying in a way that I never could.

Not me. I can't be bothered with all the hassle necessary to get rich. Okay, that's a bit facetious, but honestly, I don't want to devote my time to the process of accumulating money. I have other things to do.

For me, prosperity covers a good deal more than just having cash in the bank (or invested in the stock market). A companion that I love and whose company I enjoy - a job that challenges me and lets me make a difference in the world - good health - a comfortable home - tasty food - the occasional chance to travel - these are some of the things that contribute to my definition of  "personal wealth". I'm not rich and never will be, but I have a fantastic life - interesting, rewarding ever-changing.

I have a few friends and family who are much richer than I am. When I'm in their company I always feel a bit self-conscious, as though they might be judging me based on my income or my bank balance. Some people do feel that your net worth is synonymous with your worth as a person, and in many societies status and wealth are closely related. I fight that feeling. They made their choices. I've made mine. And I'm intensely grateful for the outcomes.

It's a day to count one's blessings, and I have many. So being rich isn't one of them... well, that's fine with me.

Happy Thanksgiving to all! 
May you be showered with blessings!

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Sweet and Sexy Seasonal Treats.

By Victoria Blisse (Guest Blogger)

Ho, ho, ho it’s that time of the year again – Blissemas. What else did you think I was going to say?
Blissemas is the season of fun, sexy blogs and big, big prizes. I hope you’ll join in!

The inspiration for my three week long blog hop came from Christmas, I suppose that’s fairly obvious, because I love this time of year and adore expressing the joy of the season in life and in my writing world too. Hence I have lots of Christmas books. I’m going to tell you about my three latest ones today, so you can choose which is the best bit of Blisse for you!

A Blisse Christmas Collection 

A collection of sweet, sensual and hot stories from the queen of festivities, Victoria Blisse.

A sexy indulgence for you to enjoy this yuletide with all the sights, scents and tastes of Christmas without the calories and hard work. Snuggle up and relax into stories of sleigh rides, snowy interludes and Christmas couplings. A truly festive treat just for you.

Sexy snippet

I don’t remember much that happened between my dip in the snow and Lucy sitting on the floor in front of me and rubbing my feet. I know things did happen but the sheer excitement of Lucy’s touch seemed to erase the memory of anything that came before it.

Her hands were so soft and gentle and their massaging did more than warm my toes. I felt the heat all through my body, and I mean everywhere. Her touch ignited my passion so much that I hoped she would not be able to see any tenting of her patchwork quilt around my crotch.

I did my best to stay silent, I really did, but her gentle touch just was too much pleasure to
bear and I let out a moan of delight. 

Really Cooking


Three hot men and one curvy woman, now we’re really cooking.
After breaking out of a truly awful relationship Paula finds herself floundering until she bumps into Gary. He cheers her up with a much coveted appointment at Flair, where more than her hair gets pampered. In return she offers Shane and Gary a cooking lesson to cheer up their ready-meal laden week.

The Friday feast turns into a sex laden success and becomes a recurring weekly date. Paula loves having the sexual attention of two hot bi guys but longs for something deeper.

Shane sets her up with professional chef, Nigel McCormack. Paula responds to his dominant appeal and the delights of all three men together. But how will Paula fair when she takes up a position in Nigel’s professional kitchen, will she capture his heart or will he return to his first love, food?

Sexy Snippet

Hey ,’ I exclaimed, trying my hardest to struggle against them, ‘what are you doing?’

I giggled then as Shane ran his fingers up and down my ribs, one of my biggest tickle spots.

‘Giving you just what you deserve,’ Shane replied and manhandled me onto the floor. ‘Isn’t that right, Gary ?’

‘Oh yeah, totally ,’ Gary agreed and pushed the coffee table away from the sofa. Then he turned me over until I was on my knees, my hands gripping onto my sofa for dear life. ‘You’ve been a very naughty girl.’

‘Naughty , me?’ I gasped, my heart pounding and my skin buzzing with anticipation as the lads moved back and the imaginary imprints of their hands held me in place, my buttocks on show to both of them.

‘Yes,’ Gary said, his hand slapping down on my bottom, ‘you.’ Another smack hit my cheek and made me yelp.

Making it Real


He’s her secret fantasy, but can she turn her dreams into reality?
Mary loves the internet but is surprised to find herself falling in love over it.

Will is a mysterious, sexy American she meets on a forum and soon it becomes apparent they have Chemistry. Part time waitress and full time author Mary is thrilled to find out her online crush is visiting England on business and plans to seduce him.

But will the heat that freely flows from monitor to monitor be present in the cold reality of Manchester in winter?

Sexy Snippet 

The action heated up quickly, with him running his hands through my hair, down my shoulders and back, kissing me deeply, long and hard. I was not used to him taking so much action, apart from the one time he’d arranged it all and played Dom. Usually he was just the recipient of my typing, of my fantasies. This time he was really throwing himself into it.
He typed furiously and I found my cyber clothes falling off. He slowly stripped me and kissed and nibbled and licked until I was writhing with pleasure.

Buy Links:

About Victoria

Victoria Blisse is a mother, wife, Christian, Manchester United fan and award winning erotica author. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut Alfresco and Smut in the City and Smut by the Sea Anthologies.
Victoria is also one of the brains behind the fabulous Smut by the Sea event taking place at Scarborough Library (UK) on the 14th June 2014. A day dedicated to erotica with lots of author readings, fun giveaways and exciting talks.

She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker (She is TEB's Resident "Naked Chef") and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories.

Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

You can find often find Victoria procrastinating on Facebook , Twitter and Pinterest

To find out more check out

Monday, November 25, 2013

Sneak Peek: The Pulse by Shoshanna Evers

[My sneak peek this Monday is an apocalyptic sci fi romance by Shoshanna Evers called The Pulse. Sounds intense! This is part of Shoshanna's blog tour, and she's giving away a $50 GC to one person who enters her contest. Use the Rafflecopter widget at the end of the post! And good luck! ~ Lisabet]


Book One in the heart-pounding Pulse Trilogy—a gripping erotic romance set in post-apocalyptic New York City one year after an electromagnetic pulse destroys America’s power grid. "Intense, exciting, and sizzlingly sexy—a perfect post-apocalyptic romance!" (Heather Thurmeier, bestselling author of Escape to My Arms and Stuck on You)

Emily Rosen lives in a military camp at Grand Central Station, where women sell their bodies to soldiers for extra rations. When she discovers a dark secret—that America is rebuilding outside of New York City, and everything the city’s refugees have been told is a lie—she escapes, the soldiers hot on her heels…

But Christopher Mason, a convict who broke out of prison after the Pulse, finds Emily first. Although he’s survived this long on the streets by looking out only for himself, Emily is beautiful, alluring, and impossible to leave behind.

Now Emily must convince this intimidating, magnetic stranger to be her guide as they journey out of New York and into the unknown. She’ll barter with her body, but sex with Mason can never be currency—it’s pure passion, and everything she desires. Despite the crumbling world around them, can Emily and Mason discover true love blooming in the darkest of places


Look at me,” Emily said soothingly. “I need to see your pupils.”

She peered into his eyes. In a perfect world, she’d shine a flashlight in them, but there were no flashlights. The only light she had now streamed in through the dirty glass panes of the windows.

Man, he was good-looking. Too good-looking. And large.

Mason leaned forward on the cot and grabbed her wrists. “It’s you,” he said groggily.

I’m Emily, I’m taking care of you,” she said gently. “I’m going to clean your wound. It may hurt.”

I remember you. I saw you that day, when they picked you up. When you got brought in.”

Emily looked at him in horror. He was from the camp, he had to be. She shrank away from him, feeling her heart race. The washrag hung limply from her hand.

Focus, don’t be blinded by fear.

I remember you. When they took you away, it was me, hiding behind the cab,” Mason said, staring intently into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

She remembered him now, the man who held his finger to his lips. At the time she had assumed he was hiding from the soldiers, just like she had been.

Like she was now.

You—you’re not one of them?” she asked, hating how weak and scared she sounded.

No. I’ve got my reasons to hide from the law. Like you, I imagine.”

She laughed, a dry barking sound. “Not like my reason.”

Quickly, she quieted herself. The less he knew about her hidden radio, the safer for both of them.

Are you . . . Why are you hiding, Mason?” She had to know, as much as she didn’t want to. He was the only man around she could possibly trust—if he truly had nothing to do with the soldiers.

As much as she wanted to make it on her own, it didn’t hurt to know who her friends were—and her enemies.

Suddenly, he looked at her suspiciously. “I should never have told you my name.”

I’m sorry,” Emily whispered. “I saw the tattoo, on your arm. I thought maybe you had been in prison.”

Do you know what they do to prisoners now, Emily?”

Emily looked at him and cocked her head. “My understanding is they let all the petty criminals go. The ones who were murderers, rapists, pedophiles and psychos they . . . they shot them. Killed them all so they wouldn’t take up valuable resources.”

They kill prisoners, huh?” Mason said, staring at her intently, holding her wrists. “So what makes you think I want you spreading rumors about me being in prison?”

I won’t tell anyone. Not a soul.”

He dropped his hands then, as if suddenly realizing what he was doing. “There’re no computers to track me. No fingerprint files. I’m a blank slate now, and I intend to start over.”

What did you do?” she whispered.

I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “And that’s all you need to know. Understand?”

Okay,” she said softly, and picked up the rag to finish cleaning his wound, grateful to have a task to keep her focused. He wouldn’t need stitches, but she’d have to check him every fifteen minutes or so for a while to make sure he wasn’t suffering from a brain injury.

Not that she could do anything for him if he was. If his head injury was truly serious, then he would just go to sleep and die. She wasn’t about to do brain surgery. She couldn’t even if she knew how.

His T-shirt was saturated with blood—scalps tend to bleed a lot. “Can you . . . take off your shirt?” she asked tentatively.

You don’t have to do this,” he said. His face looked flushed, a deep pink coloring his previously pale cheeks. “I’m not—I don’t expect you to—”

She took a step back. “No! That’s not what I meant. I just—your shirt is ruined. Bloody. I can wash it.”

He turned his face from her for a moment as if trying to compose himself.

Where you gonna wash it?” he asked as he pulled the filthy shirt over his shoulders.

She glimpsed tight abdominal muscles and an incredibly large, smooth chest before the shirt came completely off . He had a sprinkling of crinkly dark hair leading down around his navel, trailing into the waistband of his cargo pants.

Emily sighed. “I don’t know. But I bet one of the shirts I took with me from Grand Central will fit. Might be a bit tight,” she acknowledged as she ruffled through a worn backpack. “Here.”

It was definitely too small, outlining all of his muscles in stark relief.

Buy from Amazon, or your favorite bookstore:

About Shoshanna

Critically-acclaimed author Shoshanna Evers has written dozens of sexy stories including Amazon Erotica Bestsellers Overheated, and Enslaved, Book 1 in the Enslaved Trilogy. Her work has been featured in Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and Best Bondage Erotica 2013, the Penguin/Berkley Heat anthology Agony/Ecstasy, and numerous erotic BDSM novellas including Chastity Belt and Punishing the Art Thief from Ellora's Cave Publishing.

The non-fiction anthology Shoshanna Evers edited and contributed to, How To Write Hot Sex: Tips from Multi-Published Erotic Romance Authors, is a #1 Bestseller in the Authorship, Erotica Writing Reference, and Romance Writing categories.

Her BDSM erotic romance The Enslaved Trilogy released in April 2013 from Simon & Schuster's Pocket Star imprint, followed by the Pulse Trilogy, a post-apocalyptic dystopian erotic romance releasing November 2013.

Shoshanna is a New York native who now lives with her family and two big dogs in Northern Idaho. She welcomes emails from readers and writers, and loves to interact on Twitter and Facebook.

Sexily *Evers* After...

Use the Rafflecopter widget below to enter Shoshanna's drawing!

  a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sunday, November 24, 2013

Sunday Snog #101: Raw Silk

I've got something a bit different for you today. According to Victoria Blisse, queen of the snog tradition, a Sunday Snog can involve any sort of oral activity. So here's an excerpt from my first novel, Raw Silk, a tale of one woman's initiation into BDSM, and other pleasures of the flesh.

When you're done with my little snippet, click back to Blisse Kiss central for more sexy oral action!

In a foreign land, a woman discovers exotic new realms of the senses…

When software engineer Kate O'Neill leaves her lover David to take a job in Thailand, she becomes sexually involved with two very different men: a handsome and debauched member of the Thai aristocracy, and the charismatic proprietor of a sex bar. Each touches her in a different way; each teaches her different things about her body and her heart. Then David comes to Bangkok, and Kate realises that, finally, she must choose one of the three men who all desire her.


"On your knees now."

Once again she felt a flare of resistance. Part of her, though, wanted to follow his direction. She felt a strange pleasure as she sank to a kneeling position across from him. She looked at the floor, not daring his eyes.

"Pick up the panties in your mouth. Using just your mouth. Then bring them to me.’

Awkwardly, still in her high-heeled shoes, she bent down and took the discarded briefs in her teeth. Her nostrils filled with her own musky scent and she felt a new surge of lust.

Somehow knowing that this was what he wanted, Kate put her hands down and crawled the short distance to the chair where her tormentor lounged comfortably. With her ass in the air, she felt even more vulnerable, and more aroused. He sat up, thighs apart, and gestured to her to come closer. Finally, she was at his feet, between his spread legs. She sat up, leaning back on her heels, offering him the garment in the manner of a family pet offering the newspaper.

Gregory gave a little laugh, of delight more than mockery. He took the panties and held them to his face, inhaling deeply the womanly perfume with which they were soaked. "Wonderful!" he said, "even better than I had hoped.’

He leaned forward, cupped her chin in his hands, and searched her face. "Are you all right?" he asked, quite serious. Kate nodded, reveling in the fact that finally he was touching her. She focused her attention on him, silently begging him to handle her breasts, to stroke her ass. But instead he sat back in his chair, still regarding her gravely.

"Shall we continue, then, my little Kate?"

"Yes," Kate almost whispered, not knowing to what she was agreeing. "Yes.’

Marshall rose from his chair and stood towering over her, almost straddling her. He took another sampling of her scent, and smiled down at her. The mocking tone had returned. "Undo my fly, then. And give me your mouth."

Kate tried to be gentle and careful unfastening his jeans. Tight under normal circumstances, his erection stretched them to the point that the zipper would hardly operate. Every time her hands brush that taut organ through the denim, a shiver ran through her own flesh.

When Marshall’s cock finally became visible, she stifled a gasp. His member was on the same scale as the rest of him. It pulsed with heat, as if this were the heart of his fevered self. She ran her tongue delicately down its length, tracing the raised veins, tasting salt and bitterness.

"Open yourself," he said. As she did so, he slid his penis into her mouth, slowly, steadily. "Wider. I want you to take all of me, every centimeter." He pulled back slightly, then pushed in further.

Kate fought rising panic as she felt herself choking.

"Relax, Kate. Open to me, receive me, honor me." His voice, husky with lust, reassured her. Waves of warmth flowed through her limbs as she allowed her facial muscles to go limp and let go of the constriction in her throat. He pushed even deeper; she willed herself to open more. Then she realised her chin was against his pubic hair, that in fact his entire penis was inside her mouth. Pride surged through her, even as he began thrusting, out and then all the way to the root once again.

His rock-hard flesh battered her lips, yet somehow the pain did not reach her. She marveled at the silky skin that covered that hardness. As he slammed his hips against her, the rough denim of his jeans grazed her nipples, which were just as hard, sending electric spasms through her body. Kneeling, legs apart, she felt her own juices running down the inside of her thighs. Her clit throbbed in rhythm with his thrusts. Somehow Kate knew she did not have permission to touch herself.

His motions quickened. Kate felt a premonitory contraction in the rod of flesh that had taken over her mouth. Exultation filled her. Let him come, she prayed to herself, let me taste him, swallow him, serve him. She closed her eyes and focused on becoming the perfect receptacle.

Contrary, as always, he did not do as she had hoped. Clearly just on the brink of orgasm, he stopped. He slid his penis out of her mouth. Kate stared at him, her mouth still open, disappointment flooding through her.

"Now, Kate," he laughed. "You mustn’t be greedy! I'll decide when you taste my cum." He leaned closer. "Don’t worry, though. You will."

Saturday, November 23, 2013

Supporting Cast, Centre Stage Please!

By N.R. Walker (Guest Blogger)

And a giveaway!!

I’d like to thank Lisabet for offering me some page time on her blog!

Every now and then, we write a book where the secondary characters, or supporting cast as it were, sometimes take centre stage.

They don’t run away with the story but play such an important role, they’re impossible to ignore. 
And sometimes, they steal every scene they’re in.

My latest story, Breaking Point, has several supporting characters who I fell in love with. Yes, they helped the main characters in some way, pushing the plot and character development, but they were also stars in their own right.

The most memorable are Sal and Yumi. Kira’s parents play such a pivotal role in the Turning Point series. They offer some comedic relief, but also deliver some very hard truths for Matt, the main character. They’re insightful, funny, honest and almost everyone who read the first book in the series loved them.

Other supporting characters in Breaking Point whom I just loved were Arizona and Boss. They offered a support network to Matt, which I don’t think he really appreciated until the very end of the book. Not only that, they had a presence on page, and they were a joy to write.

Does that mean they’ll get their own book? Um, no. It just means they were a joy to write. LOL I found the other guys at the gym had so much more presence than Matt’s police partners, I don’t know why. Maybe I related to them better. There was a genuineness to them, a down-to-earth, hard working ethic that I loved. They had next to nothing, no money, not much in the way of possessions, but they were all heart.

Not all secondary characters have such a pull. Some are disposable, forgettable. But some - well, some are just standouts.

For your chance to win a copy of Breaking Point, the much anticipated sequel to Point of No Return, leave a comment on the lovely Lisabet’s blog telling us who your favourite supporting character is, and why. Can be from a book, TV show or movie...

(Terms of the giveaway: A random winner will be drawn after the blog post has been live for 24 hours and notified by email.)


A fight for what's right becomes a fight for his life.

As guilt plagues him, Matthew Elliott’s world begins to spiral out of control. The harder he holds on, the more it slips through his fingers, and he’s helpless to stop it.

Entering into the underground cage-fighting scene, he starts out fighting for what’s right. The deeper he gets, the more guilt consumes him—the more pain he takes for his penance—and he’s soon fighting for more than justice.

He’s fighting for love.

He’s fighting for his life.


How ’bout you and Kira? Did ya tell him how good you went the other night?”

I sighed. “I, um… I told him I won my fight, but not that I didn’t fight here,” I said quietly. How could I explain this? “He…he doesn’t really understand…”

But he’s a kick-boxer, yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah, trained in karate as a kid, went on to kick-boxing as he got older. He’s a personal trainer, but teaches boxing as a type of fitness. So he understands the love of it, as a sport, he just…he just struggles with why I’m doing this, why I left the police…” I stopped talking before I said too much.

Arizona looked at me for a long second. “Why’s he struggle with it?”

And I said out loud what I’d only ever told myself. “I’m doing this for him. I’ve not told him that, but I think he knows. I mean, he’s not stupid…”

You’ve not talked about it?”

I shook my head. “No. He’d feel guilty if I got hurt,” I said. “I don’t want him to worry.” Then I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I don’t want him at risk because of what I did for a living. Doing what I did, being a cop and being in the public eye, put him at risk. I couldn’t put him through it again.”

He’s okay though, isn’t he?” Arizona asked quietly. “And the girls he was kidnapped with? They’re all doing okay?”

I nodded and kind of shrugged. “They’re all still in counselling, but yeah, they talk openly about it.”

And you?”

Me, what?”

Talk about it? With Kira, with anyone?”

I shook my head. “No.”

Arizona picked up the backpack at his feet and stashed the money I’d given him inside it. “Man, you need to talk about shit like that, or it will eat at you.”

I nodded, and pushed down the knot in my stomach. “I know.”

The big man beside me stood up. “I’m going home, man. Gonna take my girls out for ice cream.”

Sounds good.”

You need to go home and talk to Kira.”

I nodded. I knew I did. I wanted to. I needed to. But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t tell him. Not any of it. If I started to tell him one little thing, I’d end up telling him everything, and expose this whole case.

I wouldn’t put him at risk like that. Not again.

When I got home, Kira was on the sofa watching TV. I threw my gym bag on the floor, sat down next to him and curled up into his side with my head on his chest.

He slid his arm around me and kissed the top of my head. “You okay?”


Not at all.

I miss you.

I’m sorry.

I’m dying inside.

Yeah, babe. I’m fine.”

Get your copy of Breaking Point here:

About N.R. Walker

Who am I?

Good question…

I am many things; a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer.

I have pretty, pretty boys who live in my head, who don't let me sleep at night unless I give them life with words.

I like it when they do dirty, dirty things...but I like it even more when they fall in love.

I used to think having people in my head talking to me was weird, until one day I happened across other writers who told me it was normal.

I've been writing ever since…

Where to Find N.R. Walker

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N.R. Walker

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Tell Me Why....

Why, when I have a million real world responsibilities to deal with, do I suddenly start getting all sorts of great ideas for new stories? I've added three new entries to my notebook in the past twenty four hours. When will I get to write them? Who knows?

Between grading, exams, projects and business responsibilities, I can barely breathe. The last thing I need is my muse whispering in my ear, right?

No. Let me correct myself. That's just the frustration talking. I really am grateful for these ideas - and grateful that I at least captured them in outline before they fled (as they do, if I don't write them down). It sometimes takes me months, even years, to grow a story seed into a full-leafed tale, but I often do get around to it eventually. It's interesting to browse through this notebook, which I've been using for a couple of years now, and see how many of the notions that I jotted down did eventually make it onto the page and into "print".

So I won't complain, just scribble down the inspirations as they come and get back to work. And hope that when the time comes, I'll be able to read my writing and understand my cryptic comments!