Wednesday, September 28, 2016

A Story Teller’s Magic (#erotic #horror #giveaway @kd_grace)

In the Flesh cover

By K.D. Grace (Guest Blogger)

Every novelist knows there’s magic in a story well told. Every reader knows this too. A good book is so much more than the sum of its words, and yet somehow armed with just twenty-six letters and the words and combinations of words we can make from them, we have the possibility of creating whole new worlds and peopling them with fascinating, terrifying, dynamic wonderful characters who do incredible, sometimes terrifying things. How can that not be magic?

Susan is a writer, so she’s very aware of the magic of the written word, but she’s a story-teller with something extra – something extra she knows nothing about until the power of the written word – her written words – nearly destroys everything she loves. In Susan’s case, while ‘sticks and stones may break your bones…’ words can do a helluva lot more damage than she could have ever imagined.

It was exciting for me to write a story in which the power to create and destroy, to love and to lust could somehow be embodied in the word magic every writer toys with and creates with on a daily basis. Making that ability into to something gone horribly wrong, something twisted and manipulated to dark and sinister purposes was such deliciously evil fun. The thing about words is that they can’t be unspoken. That’s something we forget, living in the world of sound bites and video clips. In a world of cut and paste and delete, it’s easy to undo what we’ve written, but what if it wasn’t? What if what we created took on a life of its own beyond the written page, and our only weapon for undoing those words was that same 26-letter alphabet and the words it creates? In the Flesh is dark paranormal romance in which words have been used to a terrifying end, and Susan may well be one of the scariest, yet bravest characters I’ve ever written. Enjoy the excerpt and don’t forget to leave a comment for the giveaway.

To promote the release of In The Flesh, I’m giving away a $30/£20 Amazon gift voucher. Use the Rafflecopter below to enter the drawing!

In The Flesh Blurb:

When Susan Innes comes to visit her friend, Annie Rivers, in Chapel House, the deconsecrated church that Annie is renovating into a home, she discovers her outgoing friend changed, reclusive, secretive, and completely enthralled by a mysterious lover, whose presence is always felt, but never seen, a lover whom she claims is god. As her holiday turns into a nightmare, Susan must come to grips with the fact that her friend’s lover is neither imaginary nor is he human, and even worse, he’s turned his wandering eye on Susan, and he won’t be denied his prize. If Susan is to fight an inhuman stalker intent on having her as his own, she’ll need a little inhuman help.

EXCERPT: Researching God’s Love Life

By the time I finished my breakfast and was ready to go, Annie was already fast asleep, curled in her nest at the foot of the altar. Outside, the smell of burning rubbish stung my eyes and the back of my throat.

I had little enthusiasm for the handbag sale, nor for lingering at the make-up counter. Instead I found myself in a coffee shop, laptop open researching God’s love life, which turned out to be a long history of seducing humans.

Zeus visited Danae in a shower of gold. He seduced Leda in the form of a swan. Eros came to Psyche in the dead of night forbidding her to look upon his face. Hades dragged Persephone down to the Underworld. The Virgin Mary was impregnated by the god of the Bible. In the New Testament, Christ is the bridegroom, and the church his bride. And the list went on and on. Perhaps even the indwelling of the Holy Spirit was just another way for divinity to experience flesh.

I had always loved mythology, and I’d read all these stories before. I’d just never put them together to get the whole picture. And though I was seeing an aspect of divinity that I found rather disturbing, I couldn’t help feeling there was still a piece of the puzzle missing.

I suppose I should have felt relieved. Annie wasn’t as unusual as I’d thought. God was the ultimate stalker, and he didn’t seem to be very faithful to his lovers. Just Annie’s type. I tried not to think about the implications of my experience in the bath last night. After all, it was just mythology, and I’d had a lot of wine. And there’s never any accounting for my vivid imagination. After all, I was a writer. I made my living as a teller of tales.

What are you reading?”

I jumped at the sound of Annie’s voice and quickly minimized the page. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

I’m feeling better.”

How did you know where to find me?”

She leaned down and whispered next to my ear. “My lover’s God, remember? You can’t hide from him.” I barely had time to register shock before she reached down and restored the page.

Trying to learn a little bit more about him, are we?”  She smiled at the monitor and nodded knowingly. “None of this does him justice. He’s the Hound of Heaven. He’s always pursuing those he loves, and there’s no escaping. Once he’s set his eyes on you, he’ll do whatever it takes to make you his own.”

I suddenly felt cold.

Buy In the Flesh Here:




About K D Grace

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?
When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She also enjoys martial arts, reading, watching the birds and anything that gets her outdoors.

KD has erotica published with Totally Bound, SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, Fulfilling the Contract, To Rome with Lust, and The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Witches trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.
K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, The Exhibition, Interviewing Wade are all available.

Find K D Here:

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Review Tuesday: Unauthorized Pleasures by Ellen Bayuk Rosenman (#history #Victorian #reviewtuesday)

unauthorized pleasures cover

Unauthorized Pleasures, by Ellen Bayuk Rosenman
Cornell University Press, 2003
The Victorian era has long been a favorite milieu for authors of erotica, due to the juxtaposition of oppressive public morality with private lechery. In any setting, the breaking of taboos and undertaking of forbidden actions elevate the level of sexual excitement. With so many restrictions on sexual expression, it is hardly surprising that the Victorian period offers many opportunities for creating a sexy story.

Unfortunately, erotic novels that trade on this aspect of Victoriana risk becoming stereotyped and formulaic. The Victorian world is often portrayed as split between the righteous prudes who defend conventional morality and the adventurous perverts who flout it. Both sets of characters tend to become caricatures frozen between public virtue and private lust.

In Unauthorized Pleasures, Ellen Bayuk Rosenman argues that the true situation was not this simple. A set of five loosely-connected essays that closely examine texts from the mid-Victorian era, Unauthorized Pleasures highlights surprising ambiguities in Victorian attitudes toward sex and gender. Officially, Victorians were supposed to deny themselves sexual pleasure. It was something to be feared and avoided, a deadly temptation that would lure them to physical, moral and social ruin. In actuality, sexual urges and behaviors were transformed, displaced, cloaked in the guise of aesthetic appreciation, romantic virtue, or even scientific inquiry.

In her first chapter, Ms. Rosenman explores the social-sexual consequences of the imaginary disease spermatorrhea. Spermatorrhea supposedly afflicted men who indulged too frequently in sex, particularly masturbation. It was characterized by loss of potency, "leaking" of bodily fluids, general mental and physical debilitation, and ultimately, death. Men's anxiety about sex led to a veritable spermatorrhea epidemic in the 1850's and 1860's. This "epidemic", in turn, gave rise to a generation of medical practitioners who inflicted truly awful therapies on their unfortunate patients. Ms. Rosenman points out, though, that these interventions often involved the doctor handling the penis, testing its erectile capacity, anointing it with various noxious or stimulating compounds, or confining it in apparatus highly reminiscent of modern SM paraphernalia. She postulates that both doctor and patient achieved some sexual pleasure in the course of these treatments, homoerotic titillation that could safely be dismissed as "necessary" and "scientific".

The second essay explores the rampant exhibitionism and voyeurism to be found on the crowded streets of Victorian London, analyzing both fiction and the personal journal of a self-avowed woman-watcher. The superficial dynamic of man as the subject, author and owner of "the gaze", and woman as the passive object, turns out to be complicated by woman's active role in presenting herself and attracting the man's vision and admiration. Ms. Rosenman exposes a deep concern in Victorian men, a fear that they will be misled by appearances and seduced into passion and destruction by those who appear to be "ladies" but who are not. At the same time, the potential for such a passionate fall lends excitement to the game of woman-watching.

Chapter 3 is devoted to the novel THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON, by G.W.M. Reynolds, a contemporary of and competitor to Dickens. Although practically unknown today, this massive work was hugely popular in its time and had significant influence on the thought and writing of its period.

What makes TMOL noteworthy, in Ms. Rosenman's opinion, is the fact that it portrays its female characters as enjoying sexual pleasures, without suffering the fateful punishments Victorian literature usually reserved for "wanton women". Reynold's women, however, experience this pleasure in isolation from any male intervention -- in gazing at their own beauty, or enjoying the physical satisfactions of dancing, or striding freely through the streets wearing male clothing. Thus, TMOL stimulated its readers (many of whom, Rosenman asserts, would have been female) but in a safe context. "They could enjoy both the thrill of transgression and the reassurance that moral standards still held -- and that they need not be wholly ashamed of their reading."

Chapter 4 discusses the fascinating, true story of the Yelverton marriage case, in which Theresa Longworth, a middle class woman of reasonable breeding and extensive education who might or might not have been Charles Yelverton's mistress -- or his wife -- successfully harnessed the sexual stereotypes of her time in order to win over a jury in her breach of contract suit. Once again, Ms. Rosenman chooses this incident not only for what it reveals about the times, but also because of the enormous volume of publicity and derivative fiction that it generated. To me, the most intriguing aspect of the tale is the ultimate fate of Theresa Longworthy. Although she finally lost her case against Yelverton, and remained unmarried, she transformed herself from a fragile woman wronged to a published author, world traveler and adventuress, roles that were highly unconventional for her time.

Ms. Rosenman ends the book with an in-depth treatment of MY SECRET LIFE, the magnum opus of Victorian erotica. She refutes many of the claims that have been made about "Walter's" exhaustive sexual memoir, highlighting his interest in communicating verbally with his partners, his openness to homosexual activities, and his boundless enthusiasm for sexual experimentation. At the same time, she illustrates how firmly Walter's exploits are embedded in the class structure of Victorian society, even though his attitudes toward female sexuality seem to be more enlightened than most of his contemporaries.

Unauthorized Pleasures is engaging, at times fascinating. It is not, however, light reading. It is a scholarly study replete with footnotes and refutations of colleagues' literary theories. The emphasis appears to be on debunking various tenets of current feminist criticism. Since I am not familiar with the authors that she challenges, I cannot comment on the effectiveness of Ms. Rosenman's endeavor in this area.

What does shine through is the author's determination to give the Victorian period, and its literature, a fresh look, to discard the stereotypes and try to allow the texts to speak for themselves. In this regard, she is quite successful.

If you are seeking titillation, this is not the book for you. If, on the other hand, you are intrigued, as I am, by the riddle of Victorian sexuality, you may find the rewards of reading Unauthorized Pleasures worth the work. Having published an erotic novelpartially set in Victorian Boston, I was personally curious to see how well my own characters and scenarios would hold up in the light of Ms. Rosenman's theories. (Pretty well, it turns out.) As a resource for authors who would like to paint a richer, more nuanced picture of Victorian sexuality, I would recommend this book, which packs a world of fascinating detail in its two hundred pages.

Monday, September 26, 2016

Limited Time Offer! #Regency Romps by @CeriseDeland only #99 cents!

Regency Romps cover

My friend and colleague Cerise Deland has gathered the three best selling novels in her Regency Romps series into a sizzling boxed set you won’t want to miss. And you can’t plead povertythe collection is on sale for only 99 cents on Kindle Unlimited for a very limited time!

This boxed set stars a group of men who have worked together, fought together and now, they band together to ensure every man attains the love of the woman he adores. Don’t miss out on reading these three fantastic novels by the #1 bestselling Regency author!

BUY LINK: Amazon

Lady Varney’s Risqué Business, Book 1

When a proper lady of the ton takes on a new client in her matchmaking business, she discovers he has one risqué demand. Spend the night with him!

(Read Lisabet’s review here!)

Rendezvous with a Duke, Book 2

Anna Fournier secludes herself, scandal staining her family name and all her prospects for anonymity, employment and even love. But one afternoon she plays her newest composition in a piano shop—and one man who cannot forget her decides to right the wrong done her years ago.

Masquerade with a Marquess

She wanted to find her family’s stolen treasures. He wanted to avoid caring for her again. But together, they found more than treasure. They discovered love that had endured decades of war and loss.


Kitty glanced toward her friend Lucy and the smile wreathing the bride’s face made Kitty understand the full meaning of the word envy. “You’ve seen the scandal sheets? How someone found my fan in the pantry?”

Justin nodded, looked horrid. “The gossip du jour.”

She clutched her stomach. “Do not make light of this.”

Sorry, darling. I should have seen it there before I left, but I was in such a rush, I didn’t.”

She reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, too. I should have had my wits about me. But I—”

I was the same.” His gaze was consoling and incredibly sympathetic. “Undone. Wanting you.”

She inhaled, sat back. He was so kind, so sweet, so unlike Henry. “Tell me what happened after I left the pantry.”

I cleaned up the glass. Found a kitchen maid who hailed the butler. Then I apologized and offered to purchase new glassware.”

But how did you explain why we—you were there?”

Justin shrugged. “I lost my way in the house.”

He believed you?”

I thought so.”

They stared at each other for a long moment in which she expressed more gratitude with her eyes than with her words. “As soon as someone connects the broken glassware to my fan, we will be done for.”

Not if you marry me, we won’t.”

Do not begin that again.” She warned beneath her breath.

I must.”

Why?” she asked him, stood and said, “I must find the ladies’ retiring room. Excuse me.”

She made her way out of the dining room, but Justin was hard on her heels.

In the hall, she spun on him and stamped her foot. “Following me is so obvious. Go away.”

No. You must listen to me. About the roses.”

She put her hands to her ears and strode down the hall.

In two steps, he pulled her from her chosen path and swung her into the family library. Pressing her against a stack of books, he braced his hands on either side of her head.

Blocked, she fumed and fussed. “Say what you will and let me go.”

He arched his brows. “I want to tell you about your roses.”


Your roses.”

Not mine. Yours.”

They have sprung their first blooms now,” he said, undeterred by her testiness. “Rich reds and creamy whites. They have grown, changed. They need more space to mature. Some must be transplanted soon.”

His declaration melted a cold, hard part of her resistance. She wanted to sob, run, be done here. “They must be lovely.”

They won’t be for long.” He caught a teardrop from her cheekbone.


They need someone to tend them properly.”

You have a gardener.” She sniffed.

I have no wife. And I need one, my darling. I need you.” He wrapped his hand around her nape and sank his fingers up against her scalp. His lips brushed hers.

I’m not a good bet, you know I’m not.” And there is your uncle’s demand for a rich heiress.

You married an old man and endured him. Marry a young man and enjoy him.” He kissed her then, his tongue darting inside to tantalize her with the promise of a different life.

I want you. I do,” she told him. “But I cannot take the chance.”

That I’d berate you. Badger you. Insult you? That’s what he did, isn’t it?”

Daily. Hourly.

Justin kissed her again, sweetly, desperately, lovingly. “Am I like him?”

No. Never.” She put her palm to his flies and beneath the superfine wool, she felt one piece of hard evidence that he resembled Henry Varney in no way.

He crushed her hand to his firm body. “I mean to have you.”

She fought to undo his buttons. “Do it then.”

He glanced around the dim wood lined walls. “Here.”

Following his line of sight, she saw the map table. “You wouldn’t.”

I will,” he told her and tugged her to the center of the room where a large table held maps. He lifted her and put her on it, her knees bent over the edge. “Let me raise your skirt, madam. I need to kiss you there.”

Someone gasped.

Kitty halted. Her gaze met Justin’s.

Something plunked to the floor. A book? A shoe?

She gulped.

He seized her hand. As he pulled open the door, he whispered, “Wait. Have you left anything?”

Who is Cerise?

Cerise DeLand loves to travel, hates to dust, adores cooking...and lives to write!

She is #1 Bestselling Regency Author of spicy romances starring dashing heroes and sassy women.

Find Cerise:

Cerise DeLand’s website:

Cerise DeLand’s Delicious Doings blog:

Follow her on Twitter: @cerisedeland

Goodreads: Cerise DeLand

Subscribe to Cerise’s Newsletter: here

Sunday, September 25, 2016

Sunday Snog 246: My first published short story (#prague #erotica #blacklace)

Happy Sunday!

Today I thought I’d share something rarea kiss from the very first short story I ever published. The excerpt below comes from “Glass House”, which was published in the 2003 Black Lace collection Wicked Words 8. I am amazed to discover the book is still available, at least in ebook form.

This story takes place in Prague. The main character already has two lovers, but she’s tempted by the brash young man she meets in a Czech pub.

When you’re done with my snog, click back to Victoria’s Sunday Snog page for sexy kisses.


Let us walk down to the river,” he says, bringing me back to the present. “It is nearly sunset. And there is something that I would like to show you.”

We make our way westward toward the Vltava, in companionable silence. I am struck by the fact that, after all, I do trust Lukaš. For all his swaggering and sexual innuendo, he has treated me with respect. I know how easily he could have taken advantage of me; he probably knows it, too. Somehow, though I have told him nothing, he also senses my conflicts. He knows without being told that I am not free.

Clouds stained by the sunset heap high over the water, which flows gray and smooth like molten lead. Vermilion, ocher, coral, azure: ordinary color names do not apply to these flowing, burning shapes.

Against this multicolored background the spires and towers of Prague Castle on its crag across the river are fairytale silhouettes. For a long time, I simply stare, as the forms merge and change in the dying light. When I finally remember Lukaš, I see he is grinning again, as if he could take credit for this spectacular display.

Is this what you wanted to show me? It is wonderful!”

Not exactly. Look across the street.”

The first thing I see is a massive rococo building of yellow stucco, dripping with ornamentation and topped by an onion dome. Then I see the building beside it, and stop short.

It is totally fantastic, whimsical, and bizarre. It began as an ordinary, modern office building, with square windows and a flat roof, facing the river across Smetanova Street. But grafted onto this edifice is a second building, all of glass, shaped like an asymmetric egg timer and leaning at a crazy angle against the staid office block. The sunset colors reflect in its multifaceted façade, so that the building seems to shift and move.

I hardly notice that Lukaš has put his arm around my shoulders. “Do you like it?” he asks, his grin even wider than before. “We call it ‘Fred and Ginger.’”

I laugh, catching the reference immediately. The glass tower’s conical base narrows, like a skirt, up to the “waist”, then fans out again. The whole structure inclines toward the office building, like a dancer leaning on her partner. On the left side, the flared lower edge of the glass completes the illusion, seeming to flow as the dancers swirl away in the opposite direction.

It is absolutely fabulous. Thank you.”

You are welcome,” says my smiling young guide with his delightful Czech accent, and then he is kissing me.

He kisses with his whole body. His arms wrap all the way around me. His lean thigh insinuates itself between mine, just as his tongue snakes into my mouth. His hands are on my back, my breasts, my buttocks. I am swallowed up in this hot, wet kiss. The jungle has claimed me. I am sinking in quicksand. He tastes of tobacco and beer, completely delicious.

Just when I think I will stop breathing, he releases me. I am shaking. My sex is throbbing. I am, unbelievably, close to orgasm. From just a kiss. But no one has ever kissed me like that. Not Daniel. Not Rebecca. I am frightened by my reactions.

Lukaš acts casual. “Do you want to go inside? The view from the top floor is very fine.” He stands close, but does not touch me. I ache for another all-consuming kiss. I fear it.

Saturday, September 24, 2016

Can a little Domestic Discipline improve a bad vacation? (#spanking #discipline #giveaway @CaraBristol)

domestic discipline cover

By Cara Bristol (Guest Blogger)

You know what’s more stressful than working all the time? Taking a vacation! A lot can go wrong.

My mom and I took a cruise, and she caught up one of those viruses that can run through an entire ship. Because we were sharing a cabin, we both ended up quarantined for the duration of the cruise.

On a trip to Hawaii with my parents when I was a teenager, my mother and stepfather got into a really big fight. The rest of the trip was tense and awkward.

Ah, good times.

My husband, my mother-in-law and I had planned a trip to Thailand. Just before we arrived, riots broke out in Bangkok—and our hotel was located in the riot area. The travel company rerouted us to a different hotel, but the new accommodations were in an industrial part of town. Nothing to do or see. We ended up going to stay with my sister-in-law who lived in Thailand at the time. So, no harm, no foul that time—although we weren’t able to see anything in the heart of Bangkok.

My husband and I have never had a bad vacation together, but we have had some “adventures” while traveling.

You can plan all you want, but vacations are unpredictable. A lot can impact a trip including:

  • Bad weather
  • Natural disasters
  • Disagreements with travel companions
  • Political or civic uprisings
  • Flight delays, flight cancellations, lost luggage
  • Getting sick
  • Being pickpocketed and losing your passport, money, etc.
  • Unexpected substandard accommodations

In Wife on the Lam in Domestic Discipline, heroine Janelle Gibb wants to take a fancy, luxury vacation for her anniversary, but her husband blows off their special day. She is so mad she goes on the dream vacation all by herself. What Janelle doesn’t know is that Brent secretly booked a trip to surprise her. Nor does she know that husband follows her to the resort and proceeds to have a little “fun” with her. Her dream vacation is about to get really uncomfortable…

An excerpt from Wife on the Lam, Domestic Discipline

The only person to board so far, she sank into a seat midway down the aisle curbside, grateful for the air conditioning. After only a short jaunt from the building to the van, perspiration dampened her skin. She plucked at her cotton capris stuck to her legs. She wouldn’t need the slacks she’d packed. Just shorts, tanks — and the swimsuit. If she had the guts to wear it.

She’d bought the suit to surprise Brent before she hatched her impromptu plan. He’d always liked her ass. She sighed and lifted her hair from her nape. Should she contact him? Start damage control?

Could she call the States from Isla Island? Because Brent traveled so much they had a comprehensive cell plan. She powered up her phone. Seconds later a text message beeped through. Her hand shook as she recognized Brent’s number.

Can’t believe U did this. Where R U?

She texted him back. Cabana Resort, Isla Island. I’m sorry.

She widened her eyes when seconds later a response popped up. He must have been waiting for her message. She could imagine his fury. Fortunately she was hundreds of miles away. Of course, if she hadn’t been hundreds of miles away, he wouldn’t be mad. With any hope, he’d cool off some by the end of the week. Or would he be angrier by then?

U R in so much trouble. B there Thurs.

Did that mean what it sounded like? She gulped. U R coming here?

Yes. We’ll talk.

Talk was often a euphemism, but of course she wanted him to join her. Her heartfelt wish had been for her and Brent to take the trip together. And she was ninety-nine percent sure he wouldn’t spank her at a resort.

Domestic Discipline Blurb

Love, desire, domination, and submission. Two domestic discipline romances by USA Today bestselling author Cara Bristol in one volume.

Wife on the Lam

Janelle wants to take a luxury vacation for her wedding anniversary. Despite numerous hints, husband Brent misses all the clues and plans a business trip! Miffed, she flies off alone to a luxury resort. She’s going to celebrate—with or without him.

Brent didn’t have to work. He’d planned a second honeymoon to the luxury Cabana Resort. Janelle might have ruined his surprise, but he’s not going to let her ruin their anniversary, too. He has a little trick up his sleeve to take his errant wife in hand and get their marriage back on track.

Rahm’s Way

Before her military husband left for his tour of duty, Cadence Simmons relied on Rahm’s love, direction, and protection. His absence forced her to become more independent and make decisions for herself. After serving his country, he’s home for good and eager to resume their marriage as it was before. Only Cadence isn’t quite sure she wants things exactly as they were. Can domestic discipline guide this couple through some major changes?

Buy Links:

Author Bio

USA Today bestselling author Cara Bristol writes “nice and naughty” stories of love, romance, and humor featuring strong alpha heroes. She is a no. 1 bestseller in BDSM erotica, science fiction romance, and holiday fiction on Amazon. She is best known for her Rod and Cane Society domestic discipline series and her Breeder D/s sci-fi romance series. She lives in Missouri with her own alpha hero, her husband. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, reality TV shows, and traveling.

Have you ever had a vacation go awry? Tell me about your experience and enter to win a copy of Irresistible Attractions, a Rod and Cane Society spanking romance. 
Don't forget to include your email address in your comment!

Friday, September 23, 2016

Second Chance MM Romance (#mm #fitness #secondchance @ElodieParkes)

By Elodie Parkes (Guest Blogger)

Thank you for hosting me as I share a bit about my new release,
Hawk v Falcon: Surprise at the Candy Apple.

When Chris Falconer receives an email from his lost high school friend, Justin, ten years after he last saw him, Chris is overjoyed. The two boys had shared kisses and sworn love for each other, but before their love could be tested, Justin’s mother abruptly took Justin out of school, and they disappeared.

Multi-talented and handsome Chris is a cage fighter at Jack’s Clubhouse, and works in the Candy Apple club. He writes a column for a fitness blog and keeps himself busy, but deep down he’s never forgotten Justin—turns out Justin has never forgotten Chris either.

On a modeling assignment in New York, Justin sees Chris in a café and can’t help contacting him, but his ex, Todd, who doesn’t want Justin but doesn’t want Chris to have him either, has plans to throw their reunion into disarray.

So begins a love story full of emotion. Will Todd succeed? Or this time, will Justin and Chris have the happy ending and delicious love they deserve?

In the second MM romance from the Candy Apple series, I picked up on the character Hawk, the Dungeon Master in the Candy Apple. Chris Falconer is Hawk to the dungeon surveillance staff, but to others he’s a lonely man who often thinks about his past with regret. To the audience at Jack’s Clubhouse, where Chris cage fights and provides display fight bouts, he’s a thrilling sight.

Chris is: six foot two; has dark glossy hair; has deep blue eyes; is kind and gentle; loves sex and giving his partner pleasure; is muscled and handsome; is intelligent, multi-talented, calm and sophisticated. When he’s not fighting, he favors black suits, or a leather jacket;

Justin is: a fashion model; six foot two; has dark hair; has clear blue/gray eyes. Justin is lonely and had a stressful upbringing. He has never forgotten Chris, and needs his love. Justin has lived in Denmark for many years. He is hesitant and yet as soon as Chris begins to take care of him, he blossoms.

Their story is sexy, romantic, sad, and happy. No one is more surprised than Chris when he is contacted by long lost love Justin and he will do anything to give Justin the love he needs.


Justin walked a pace behind Chris. It was such a relief to be near Chris, Justin’s fatigue threatened to overwhelm him. Every muscle in his body felt heavy. His gaze traced the broad shoulders and muscled thighs of the man in front. Chris’s hair was well cut and his suit obviously expensive. Chris was even taller than he’d been when Justin last saw him in person, but then so was he. Justin smiled as a wave of tenderness crept over him followed by a sharp need to feel Chris’s lips on his. He still loved Chris. He’d expected to find it was all in his head, that the love was confined to memories, and real life would show him he was mistaken, that love couldn’t last this long.

They were in a corridor when Chris turned to him. “I’ve thought about you so much, I’m a bit ashamed of myself for clinging to your memory, when you never called, when you just disappeared.”
Justin’s heart fell. Was Chris about to reject him now they were away from the bar, the friendly barkeep, and bright white glow of the downlights there? “I’m sorry...”

No. I meant ... I mean I still care for you. I couldn’t ever shake it. I never got over you and it’s been ... it’s been so long—you know I sometimes felt weak for not letting go.”

Justin gazed at Chris’s handsome face. “I thought about you.” He slid his hand along Chris’s jaw. “I want to kiss you, so much.”

Chris closed the small gap between their bodies as he grabbed Justin’s head and brought his mouth down on Justin’s. Justin’s breath left him in a soft murmur. His eyes closed in pleasure. He clung to Chris, desperation to stay with Chris, never to go home, gripping him. All he could think of was starting again with Chris, of the delicious drifting sensation that overcame him as Chris pressed close. He kissed Chris over and over until he couldn’t breathe, and Chris held his face away a little whispering words he’d longed to hear against his mouth and dotting tiny kisses there between the phrases.

Justin, stay here, in the club. I can’t let you go, but I can’t leave work. I still love you. I want to know where you’ve been all these years. Where do you live? You must be a club member. I’ve not seen you here before. Can you stay until we close? It will be late, but then we can talk—we can be together.”

Justin closed his eyes and leaned his head on Chris’s shoulder. “Yes.”

Chris folded Justin in his arms.

Justin stayed within the comfort of the embrace until he knew he had to let Chris get back to work. He raised his head and stepped away.

I should let you work. I’ll hang out at the bar.”

Chris gazed into his eyes. “Thank you.” He kissed Justin gently. “Hell, you’ll never know how good it feels to kiss you again.

Copyright Elodie Parkes Encompass Ink, 2016

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About Elodie

I’m a writer who is in love with happy endings. Currently based in the UK but thinking about joining the next flock of birds I see heading south for the winter.

I love: music, art, animals, flowers, trees, the ocean...

I work with antiques by day and words by night.

Like a vampire, darkness is my friend, that’s when the silence is only broken by an occasional hoot of owls in the woodlands opposite my home, and I write.

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