Sunday, July 31, 2016

Sunday Snog 237: The Architecture of Desire (#lgbtq #erotica #ff)

My snog today comes from my short story “The Architecture of Desire”, part of my FF collection Her Own Devices. If you enjoy lesbian erotica and romance featuring a wide range of characters, I recommend the book. And now the price has been reduced to only $2.99! Get your copy at Amazon, or a wide range of other quality retailers.

When you’re done with my Sunday kiss, head back to Victoria’s Sunday Snog page, for lots more oral action!

She began by kissing me. There was nothing tender or romantic about that kiss. Her tongue poked rudely into my mouth. Her lips were hard and insolent on mine. That kiss stole my breath, liquefied my sex, and turned my knees to rubber. I would have stumbled and fallen against the steel shelving, but she held me upright with one muscular arm around my waist. With the other hand, she assailed the buttons of my crepe blouse, tearing them open without regard for the delicate fabric.

She had none of Marietta's refinement, none of that measured sensuality I had been missing so much. I was grateful for that. I wanted her brash youth, wanted her fire to burn away my memories and my regrets. By the time she released me, I was gasping. I could feel the hot blood in my cheeks, sense my smeared makeup. My clit was hugely swollen, throbbing with my racing pulse.

She pulled back from me and looked me over, hands on her hips.You liked that, didn't you?she mocked.I knew you would. For the last two hours, you've been at that corner table, nursing your drink, watching me tend bar. Dying to get into my pants. It's true, isn't it, Ms. Fancy Architect?

A part of me wanted to slap her face. The rest ached to throw myself at her feet and bury my nose in her denim-sheathed crotch. I stared at my hands, embarrassed by my need.

My blouse hung open, a button torn away. She reached in and brushed her fingertips across my lace brassiere.Take it off,she said. A slight huskiness in her voice betrayed her own arousal. As I obeyed, my nipples tightened to hard little bullets. I carefully draped my blouse over the ladder behind me, then stood bare-breasted before her. Do I look old to her, I wondered, flabby and overblown? She grinned at my discomfort. Nevertheless she was a bit flushed and her breathing seemed faster than normal. I felt a tiny thrill of triumph at her desire.

Want more? The book includes nine tales of lesbian love, including the previously unpublished “Burn, Baby”.

Saturday, July 30, 2016

The Moussaiefff red diamond (#bdsm #pnr #dragon @kryssiefortune)

The Moussaieff Red Diamond

By Kryssie Fortune (Guest Blogger)

Thought all the big diamonds were discovered centuries ago? So did I. But a Brazilian Farmer found this star in a riverbed during the 1990s.

Although originally called the Red Shield Diamond.

It was cut by the William Goldberg Diamond Corp. The rough stone was 13.9 carats, which means it's not the biggest diamond in the world, but it's one of the rarest.

In 2001/2002, after it was cut, Shlomo Moussaieff, bought it. He changed the name to the Mossaieff Red. This man is part of a jewelling dynasty based in London's park Row. He never revealed his fortune, claiming he never revealed his net worth. I love that he once told an Israeli newspaper that according to the kabbala, that would be asking for misfortune. "Anyone wishing to buy for less than one million pounds need not enter? I help people get rid of their money."

One myth about diamonds is that the clearer the better. Here's a quote from Google

Which is the Most Expensive Diamond Color?

In white colorless diamonds the obvious answer is D (the scale goes from D-Z). While there can be debates about which is more expensive, the blue diamond or the pink diamond, there are no debates as per which colored diamond is the most expensive - The Red Diamond.

This diamond helped inspire my book, Dominated by the Dragon. It gets a tiny but incredibly important mention in there. I wonder if you can work out why? One clue - It's not a book about a diamond hoist, but it's working title was Diamond are for Dragons and there's a red diamond symbol on the cover

Buy links


A former super soldier turned dragon demon must choose between his soul mate and saving the world from a nuclear winter. 

The British army's nuclear testing bonded a dragon into Flynn Hemsworth's soul. Military scientists vivisected and tortured him until he escaped two years later. Although he's never aged, he's been alone and on the run for almost six decades. When he prevents a naked woman from being the prize lot in a coven's slave auction, he realizes she has an unexplored submissive streak.

Hope Mathews-a sassy blonde with killer keyboard skills-is a strong independent woman. When Flynn prevents her being sold to a demon, she discovers she enjoys spankings and light bondage. 

Together Hope and Flynn must shut down a coven of black magicians, rescue kidnapped demons, and stop a black ops nuclear missile hitting the UK. Even if they manage all that, Hope's the granddaughter of a billionaire while Flynn's still on the run from the military who want to dissect him again. Can they find common ground and build a life together?

Reader Advisory: Contains explicit language, a virginal heroine who discovers she enjoys spanking and bondage. Add in some serious dragon demon loving, light the blue touch paper, stand back, and watch the sparks fly.

Find me on Social Media at:

Friday, July 29, 2016

Sneak Peek: A Variety of Chains (#pnr #coverreveal #vampire @CBlackthorn)

A Variety of Chains cover


Kathryn McCulsky is an ErGer – a rare and highly prized individual in the supernatural world.
She has spent her life running and hiding, but circumstances have changed and the only way to protect her family is to hand herself over to the Vampire Lord of London to face slavery or death.
Lucian Neben runs his London court with a stern but fair hand, but political pressures are building from both the human and fey worlds, and taking possession of an ErGer would cement his position of power.

Kathryn is vulnerable and broken almost beyond repair, but she holds in her hands the one treasure Lucian desperately wants – the possibility of home and family.

Can he teach her to open herself up; to choose to life, and him, before reality forces him to take her freedom?

Note: A Variety of Chains will be available through all main online bookstores in print and digital on the 20th of August.


It was inevitable where this evening was going to lead. For an ErGer to bond, the mind needed to be broken open as only sex could – and her own body would force it soon enough. 
"Pick up the wine and take a sip," he said.
"I don't drink," she replied. 
His eyes remained expressionless, as was his voice when he spoke again. "It was not a request." 
Absolute obedience for the safety of the girls. 
She reached for the glass and took a small sip. As she tried to put it back down, his hands tightened on her waist and brought her attention back to him mid-movement.
"I am thirsty, too."
She offered him the glass, but he shook his head. "My hands are full."
To illustrate this fact he began to trace little half circles over her belly with his thumbs. She tried to offer the glass to his lips but he shook his head again.
"Not like that." There was a hint of amusement in his eyes and a twitch to his lips. Instead, she tried to offer her wrist, but that simply made him raise an eyebrow. 
"How then?" She felt the desperation in her own voice and tried to suppress it while making the cold return.
"Take a sip and hold it in your mouth." 
She was starting to have an idea where this was leading. She tried to lean forward to feed him the wine but his hands kept her from him.
"Set down the glass first, then let me drink from your mouth." 
Carefully she put down the glass before leaning forward. In her haste and nervousness she parted her lips before touching his and spilled most of the wine down her chin and his neck. She froze in terror, aware of the strength in the hands around her waist and the sharp teeth entirely too close to her. His lips parted and his tongue snaked out to lazily lap at the liquid dripping down her lips and chin. Only when he had cleaned her thoroughly did he allow her to move back enough to meet his gaze. Her eyes fell to his mouth and the spilled wine that painted his neck and shirt red. Small droplets were still caught in the evening shadow of the beard along his cheeks. 
"Clean it!" 
The first flick of her tongue was tentative at best, barely a touch, but when he moved his head to allow her more access she became bolder. The taste of his skin, mixed with that of the red wine, filled her mouth – unidentifiable, subtle and strange. As her tongue reached his neck, his arousal grew impossibly large beneath her, pressing against the folds of her sex through only two layers of clothes. She shied back – feeling stupid immediately. It was inevitable where this evening was going to lead. For an ErGer to bond, the mind needed to be broken open as only sex could – and her own body would force it soon enough. In her experience, he had shown more patience than any other. Every Lord who had ever acquired her, either because her brother had sold her to them or because they had tracked her down, had taken her blood and body within minutes of their acquaintance. What was the point of delay? 

Pre-order links

Amazon UK:
Amazon US:

Author Bio

In "real" life, I am an academic with degrees in Political Science, Economics, Philosophy and Law and an insatiable desire to confound, baffle and disconcert my students. Someone once suggested to me the reason for my stories lay in the desire to offset the tedium and rationality of academic life. He wasn't an academic or he would have known better. It is best to use research against tedium, students to offset the rationality and an unlimited supply of stressballs for the faculty meetings. The stories? Well, they are just for me - like a mental manicure.

I also write a blog on Feminism and Erotica - come talk to me:

Cover reveal hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

Thursday, July 28, 2016

Sports romance? Kill me now please! (#romance #fad #marketing)

I don’t pay a huge amount of attention to the latest hot topics in the market. Even if I wanted to write what’s currently popular, I’d never keep up. I write too slowly. By the time I published my fashionable opus, the trends would have changed.

On the other hand, I’m somewhat aware of what’s the current rage, simply because I know so many authors and host so many of them here at my blog. For instance, I know that step-brother romances were selling like hot cakes a few months ago. Before that it was billionaires, of course, though I guess they’re now a bit passé. A few days ago, a colleague informed me that the absolutely latest, up and coming sub-genre is sports romance. Looking at the posts that come through my Triberr stream, I think she’s right.

Oh dear.

I admire my fellow authors who can make sweaty, smelly, macho guys seem sexy. Muscle pain and locker rooms, cut throat competition, a focus on physical perfectionI’m sorry, but that’s so not me...!

I’m a dancer, but I’ve never had any attraction to sports, of any kind. In general, I’m a bit of a klutz, except when the music starts. And I have to say, I find most sports utterly boring. I know I’m not making many friends here. Many of you love tennis, or basketball, or soccer, or track and field, and probably you’d love to read a story about these activities.

Sorry, but you’ll have to find someone else to write it. (And of course, given its burgeoning popularity, you will...)

It’s funny. I can imagine penning a tale in almost any sub-genre. I’m willing to write way over the edge, too. Things that some people might find distinctly disturbing not infrequently find their way into my work. But sports? Turns my stomach, I’m afraid.



By the way, while I have your attention, let me remind you that all my books are still half off at Smashwords, until Sunday. That means you can get The Gazillionaire and the Virgin for only $2.50, and Slush for free.  

Okay, so they’re not the latest, hottest subgenre. But darn it, they’re good!

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Going all the way, and then some (#erotica #fairytales #freebook @SharonFisher)

By Sharon Lynn Fisher (Guest Blogger)

I never set out to write an erotica collection. I was supposed to be working on my second sci-fi romance, but I’d reached that point about halfway through when things suddenly get real. When the honeymoon period has ended, and you’re not sure you and that book have what it takes to go the distance. So basically I was trying to escape, and I wrote a scene that became the second chapter of “The Garden Rules,” the first erotic bedtime story in Before She Wakes.

At the time I had no expectations. I didn’t even know if what I was writing was any good. I showed it to some trusted readers and got some encouragement, and months later I decided to finish that first story. I shared it with my agent, and with additional encouragement from her, I wrote a second one. The original plan was to indie publish, and we did try that with the first two. But I just didn’t have time for the kind of promo you have to do as an indie author, and also I wasn’t sure about the market for individual erotic short stories. In the end, we sold a collection of six stories to Penguin Random House, for their Loveswept imprint.

What I’m really here to talk about, though, is how these stories were different from anything I’ve ever written. As a sci-fi romance author, I’d written plenty of sex. But when I wrote that first scene of “The Garden Rules,” I locked my inner critic in the basement. At the time, I had no idea I’d end up pitching it to a traditional publisher, so I wrote what I wanted and let the chips fall where they might.

By the time I started the third story, I’d taped a note to my desk that said, “Remember to have fun.” Every time I started to worry about whether the story was working, I asked myself, what’s the most fun I could have with this story right now? And if what came to me was something that caused my inner critic to pop out and say, “oh no you don’t,” I just crammed her back in the basement and did it anyway. Every time her voice drifted up, warning me something was too weird or over-the-top, I knew I was on the right track.

The result was stuff like a herd of randy fauns, a purple fairy with an oversized phallus, steampunk sex toys, dragon shifters getting it on in the clouds, and a pair of French monarchs licking confections off court visitors. It’s resulted in Goodreads reviews with comments like “If you like fairy tales, keep your mind open, and just go with the flow!” And it was, hands-down, the most fun I ever had writing ANYTHING. 

By the way, I'm giving away a free copy of the book to one person who comments. Tell me what you think about my excerpt, or the concept of erotic fairy tales in general. I'll randomly select one person as my winner. Don't forget to include your email address so I can find you if you win! 


You’ve never read bedtime stories like these. RITA Award finalist Sharon Lynn Fisher blends fantasy, science fiction, and dark romance in these bold tales of seduction and sensual awakening.

The Dragonmaid’s Secret

On the king’s orders, a mercenary has come to ransack the village of Roussillon. But when he confronts the town’s defender, the dragonmaid Isabeau, he is seized by the call to mate—for this rogue is, in fact, a dragon-shifter.

Raven Takes A Pearl

Pearl is a captive of Master Raven—part man, part crow, part machine. And as she submits to the curious probing of the dark-winged inventor, Pearl discovers that her body contains mysteries even she never dreamed it possessed.

The Garden Rules

After swallowing an acorn sweetmeat, Sylva is transported to a fantastical forest and begins training as a nymph at the behest of her faun master. But before she earns the right to please him, she must complete three tantalizing trials.

The Kelpie’s Prize

Dragged beneath a fairy pool by a mechanical horse, Vivi finds herself held by an alchemist claiming to be Merlin himself. Now, to escape an ancient curse, she must play the wanton seductress—and pray he releases her in more ways than one.

Willa And The Wisp

In the bayou that covers the long-ago flooded city of New Orleans, Willa uses light to keep her safe from the creepers. She never expected that light to take the form of a brightly glowing man—a lover who ignites a flame that just may thaw her frigid grip on self reliance.

The Dragonfly Prince

In post-apocalyptic Ireland, a virgin gives her hand in marriage to broker peace with a genetically modified race. But when a human rival challenges the dark prince’s claim, the bride chooses the field of contest: her own body.


This scene is from “The Dragonfly Prince.” It’s about a young woman in post-apocalyptic Ireland who gives herself in marriage to keep the peace with a clan of genetically modified humans who call themselves the Tuatha De Danann. What she doesn’t know is that a man she has always considered her stepbrother is in love with her and wants to stop the wedding. When her betrothed walks in on a forbidden kiss, awkwardness ensues. After the stepbrother is ordered out, the bride and bridegroom have their first conversation. 
Dayne’s countenance is so smoky and dark that it is hard to imagine what he’s thinking. His arms are folded, and the bunching of shoulder and chest muscles reminds me how powerful he is. My heart races, and I struggle to find my voice. But he doesn’t speak, so I must.

I apologize. Jamie’s behavior was wrong and...unexpected.”

Dayne lifts a dark eyebrow. “You were disgusted by it? It didn’t appear so to me.”

My already hot skin saves me from displaying the shame I feel. “I was surprised. And I...” On an impulse, I raise my chin to better meet the challenge in his gaze. Instinct is warning me I can’t win a game of cat-and-mouse with this man. “I was confused. We grew up together, and I’ve always thought of him as my brother. I didn’t know that he felt differently.”

And now that you do?”

I drop my hands to my sides and take a slow breath, knowing how important my answer is. “Now that I do, I understand why he was so violently opposed to this marriage. And I regret that I’ve hurt him so deeply.”

I know I haven’t answered the question he’s really asking, but he seems to accept it anyway. He strides to the window beside the bed, and I find my eyes following the crimson wings as he moves. Their texture makes them appear to glisten, and I wonder whether they’re as fragile as they look. I wonder whether they’re capable of flight. My da says that the biological mechanics are all wrong. That the winged transgenics were a failed experiment. But they proved more resilient than most of humanity. And though his wings may serve no practical purpose, it’s impossible not to appreciate their delicate-veined beauty.

Has the conflict been resolved?” I ask, a tremor in my voice.

No,” he replies. “But my father will try to distract them until the danger passes. There would have been games after the wedding. Contests of strength. He’s trying to interest them in those.”

I don’t understand what happened. Have I done something wrong?”

He turns from the window. “Yes. But it wasn’t your fault. It was an oversight of my father’s, when he arranged the ceremony with your father.”

I lift my eyebrows, waiting for the rest of it.

You should never have appeared in public at this time of your cycle. A Tuatha woman wouldn’t do such a thing unless she wanted attention from potential mates.”

I stare at him, keenly aware my color is rising again. My betrothed, whom I’ve just met, is talking about my fertility—and he seems to know more about it than I do.

Buy LInks

About Sharon

An RWA RITA Award finalist and a three-time Golden Heart Award finalist, Sharon Lynn Fisher ( writes stories for the geeky at heartmeaty mash-ups of sci-fi, fantasy, suspense, and romance, with no apology for the latter. She lives where it rains nine months of the year, and she has a strange obsession with gingers (down to her freaky orange cat). Sharons works include:

  • Ghost Planet
  • The Ophelia Prophecy
  • Echo 8
  • Before She Wakes