Tuesday, June 30, 2020

Review Tuesday: The Separation by A P von K'Ory #ReviewTuesday #CrossculturalRomance


The Separation cover

Bound to Tradition: The Separation by A P von K’Ory
Amazon KDP, 2013

Businessman Erik Lindqvist – nicknamed “Viking” - has problems with women. He doesn’t trust them; fundamentally he believes they are all untrustworthy sluts who exist only to be used and discarded. That’s how he treated all his many lovers, until he met Khira, the brilliant and beautiful sixteen year old from the Kenyan Luo tribe who stole his heart. Despite her youth, Khira seems to have tamed the beast in Erik. Her upbringing as a Luo woman has given her a unique perspective on men and sex. Men are “muscled infants” who must be indulged but also guided by the women, who are goddesses on earth. Khira and Erik have a rather unconventional marriage in which Erik is still free to expiate his lust with other women. At the same time, they are deeply devoted to one another and to their beautiful and talented children.

When Khira secretly takes their pubescent daughter Loyana back to her tribe to be initiated into the mysteries of goddesshood, and Loyana falls ill as a result, all Erik’s rage against women rises to the surface. He brutally assaults his beloved Khira, sending her into a coma. Coming to himself, he realizes that he may well have killed the person he loves most in the world. Both Khira and his children desperately need him, but he can’t cope with the guilt and the responsibility. Despite his mostly happy marriage, he still hasn’t resolved his mistrust of the female of the species.

The Separation is the third and final book in A P von K’Ory’s dramatic Bound to Tradition trilogy. The second volume ends with Erik’s attack on Khira, and his subsequent desperate attempts to get her out of the African bush and into medical treatment before she dies. As the third book opens, Khira has been unconscious and unresponsive for days. Erik is half-insane with grief and guilt. Their five children are traumatized, especially Loyana who witnessed Erik’s attack on her mother, and who feels that she is at fault for agreeing to the initiation. Khira’s closest friend Joyce arrives from Kenya to help care for the family during the emergency. Standing in for Khira, she’s willing to confront to Erik and force him to accept what he’s done.

This book was not what I expected. From the title, I thought that Khira would recover, but that she’d break away from the unpredictable and violent husband who almost killed her, living separately from him despite their mutual love. Instead, Khira remains in a coma throughout most of this novel. The “separation” relates to the fact that she and Erik cannot communicate at all.

However, despite her outward passivity, Khira’s mind is still active. A P von K’Ory is very convincing in her portrayal of Khira’s inner life, as she struggles to understand what has happened, to remember who she is, and to recognize the people around her. She can hear; she can form intentions. However, she cannot, especially at first, command her body to act on those intentions – even something as simple as moving a finger. These visits to Khira’s mind are devastating.

Much of the novel is dedicated to Erik’s attempts to run away from himself and his responsibility for Khira’s condition. I have to say that I found him infuriating. Despite the almost supernatural connection between him and his wife, he just can’t manage to face his own flaws. One can’t help but believe that Khira would be better off without him.

In the end, love triumphs, though I sense there will always be scars that won’t fully heal. Khira fights her way back to consciousness and to her family. Erik finally begins to work on his deep-seated emotional issues. The book concludes with an event full of hope for the future – an event that sets the stage for A P von K’Ory’s second series, Golden Shana.

As hard as it was to read about Erik’s behavior, I enjoyed The Separation. Like the previous books, it is full of vivid descriptions and intense emotion. It does not focus as much on the conflict between Erik’s and Khira’s worlds as the first two volumes of the trilogy, but that tension always exists under the surface. You can’t help wondering when it’s going to explode once more and fracture their lives.


Monday, June 29, 2020

The stakes are high... #PreOrder #Giveaway @MadisonMichael_

Dare to Hope cover

Giveaway

Maddy is offering a few lucky readers the chance to win an ebook of Dare to Hope from ibooks or another ebook format. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter! You may enter each day for a chance to win so be sure to follow along with us on the Pre-Order Tour.

Pre-Order Details

Dare to Hope is now available for Pre-Order on B&N, Apple Books or Kobo. After its release it will only be available on Amazon, so hurry! Go Pre-Order your copy if you prefer these formats for reading.

About Dare to Hope

She’s betting on love and the stakes are high

The “Crazy Eights,” eight women who have been friends for 30 years, have a powerful connection yet rarely see each other. At a pivotal time in their lives, they create a way to remedy this predicament, an audacious dare contrived to bring them together for weddings – each participant must get married within twelve months. The stakes are high. Win the bet and lose your heart; or lose the bet and perform a personally mortifying task.

In the first of their stories, we meet Eliana, beautiful and brilliant, but starting over, focused on her career, not on some foolhardy dare. Longing for a family but recently divorced and on her own, Eliana sets her sights on a new job, a new home and accepting her single, childless status. Independent and determined, she has no idea that in less than six months she will both win and lose her heart’s desire.

Jeremy Klein, genius engineer and inventor, is also making life changes. He’s sold his startup to a major medical device company, becoming President and CEO, and a billionaire before he is forty. Although he’s gun-shy about the dating game, Jeremy knows it’s time to apply his smarts, sex appeal and new-found success to finding true love.

When Eliana meets Jeremy, they bond quickly. The couple has so much in common and a chemistry that sizzles. Winning Eliana feels like a fantasy come true to Jeremy. Their attraction is immediate and electrifying, and a one-night stand morphs into planning a future. But plans change. On track to wedded bliss, baby and all, Jeremy and Eliana are derailed by accusations that threaten their relationship, Eliana’s career and Jeremy’s future as CEO.

Spies, lies, allegations and misunderstandings abound, threatening to destroy their happiness. That is, until those “Crazy Eights” get involved, scheming and manipulating to win Eliana her happily ever after. Can a group of determined friends help Eliana and Jeremy hold onto love?

In the tradition of The Beguiling Bachelor Series, Madison Michael creates a romance series about independent and sassy women, sexy and successful men, true love, and lasting friendships.

Genre: Steamy Contemporary Romance



Buy Links


Amazon Buy Link https://amzn.to/2USqYwS

Excerpt

His grin was devastating up close – wide and welcoming, with a hint of naughtiness and the promise of shared pleasures. But it was his eyes, deep coffee brown and fringed with long dark lashes that were his best feature; piercing, intelligent and inquisitive eyes, trained on her.

Please, God, Eliana prayed quickly, do not let this man be the new sales manager. It would be lamentable if she had to keep him at arm's length. He was the first man Eliana had felt drawn to since Nico. If she was honest with herself, he was the first man she had ever felt this attracted to so immediately. It was enough to make her believe in love at first sight or fate.

"Hi," he stepped closer, ignoring the empty stool beside her to halt just inside her personal space. Usually, Eliana would have reflexively backed up, but she savored his closeness, the power emanating from his presence. Even in this stuffy bar, he smelled good – fresh, like soap and good whiskey. And up close, his eyes were more magical – a hint of gold dancing in their depths.

"Hi," she responded on a breath, letting the single word hang there for a moment before adding "You aren't in sales, are you?"

"Nope." If he thought it was a strange conversation starter, he kept it to himself. "Engineering and design, although I have dabbled in sales. I could be in sales for you," he offered in a voice smooth as brandy, redolent with sexual promise and a hint of curiosity. She laughed at his offer. "Are you in sales?"

"Yes, I am. I was thinking of what a crime it would be if you turned out to be my new boss. I'm meeting him tomorrow."

"Jeremy," he responded, extending his hand to shake hers. "Not in sales. Is your boss named Jeremy?"

"Thankfully, not." Eliana extended her hand, savoring the moment as Jeremy wrapped his long fingers around hers. She noticed there was no wedding band as she admired the strength and length of his fingers, the fine hairs on the back of his hand, and his grip - warm and dry. His skin was soft over fine bone and healthy muscle. Everything about him captivated her. "Eliana."

Jeremy seemed in no hurry to release her hand, but after several beats too long for politeness, Eliana pulled hers from his. "Is this seat taken?" he asked, already sitting down, not thinking twice about it. "Or perhaps that table against the wall? I am anxious to learn why you don't know who you work with, Eliana."

Eliana laughed and watched as Jeremy's breath stopped. His every emotion was transparent, especially the desire flaming in his eyes right now. A passion she reciprocated. Wholeheartedly. She couldn't remember such an instantaneous attraction. But with Jeremy, she felt electricity and lust move through her entire body, just from the touch of his hand and the sound of her name spoken in his rich baritone.

"Eliana," he rolled the word around his mouth as if tasting a fine wine. "What a lovely name." Eliana panties dampened. He was just saying words, but their underlying promise was undeniable. She wanted to be alone with him. She wanted to be naked with him. And all she knew was his first name.

Eliana nodded toward the table, questioning her sanity. She was sure about what this man wanted, but after only minutes, her body governed her head. Jeremy spoke briefly with the bartender, passed him a fifty like it was a single, and motioned for her to lead the way to the empty table. Before they had settled in their chairs, both had fresh drinks. Earlier, the bartender had responded to her beauty with decent service and half-hearted flirting, but he reacted with alacrity to the big tip.

"So, spill," Jeremy directed, leaning forward on his elbows and putting his mouth dangerously close to hers. Just a few inches, Eliana imagined, and they could be kissing. "I am dying to hear your story. I want to know absolutely everything about you." The way he lingered on the word 'everything' made Eliana wetter still. Oh man, she was in way over her head.

Meet Madison Michael


Madison Michael loves to binge news, movies, books, Oreos and romance – reading romance novels, writing romantic stories, watching Rom-Coms over and over. Maddy has spent her self-isolation fretting about the health of her friends and neighbors and catching up on TV programs from ten years ago.

Hunkered down with her cat, Gracie, and a Zoom life-line to the world, she is wondering how people date and social distance, how much junk food she can consume in a day and why Gracie only wants to play when Maddy needs to work.

Oh, and Madison is also hard at work on the rest of the Double Dare Romance series. Watch for more of the series in Autumn and Winter, 2020.

Madison’s Social Links









All Caught up on Madison’s Books?

The Beguiling Bachelor Series
Four Successful, Sexy Men meet their matches – and how!

(or get it free by joining Madison’s Insider Group)





The B&B Billionaire Books
Second Chance at Love stories set in small town America



Standalone Stories
from Sweet Time Travel to Sexy May-September Romance


Studmuffin (available only when you sign up to be an Insider)


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sunday, June 28, 2020

Charity Sunday, Extended! #CharitySunday #Donation @CureSMA



Hello, readers!

Last week was the official Charity Sunday date. However, one of our dedicated participants, Dee S. Knight, has told her readers that Charity Sunday will be the last Sunday of each month. So she has a great Charity Sunday post today, with a lovely excerpt. You can find it here:


For every comment, she’ll make a donation to her chosen cause, an organization that provides suitably customized housing for veterans with physical disabilities.

Meanwhile, I got an email from CureSMA the other day, with the information that they’ve donated more than a million dollars to one of the most prominent SMA research and treatment organizations.




It gives me a warm feeling to know that a few of those dollars might have come from me!

So – I’m extending my Charity Sunday from last week to this week. Leave me a comment on this post, and I’ll donate another $2 to CureSMA.

AND – to sweeten the deal, I’ll give away two copies of D&S Duos 6, the book that provided my excerpt last week.

You can read that excerpt here:

Be sure to include your email if you’d like to win a copy of the book.

Oh, and starting next month, I’ll be doing Charity Sunday on the last Sunday of the month, so we can be in sync with Dee. Don't forget to visit her and comment on her post, too!




Saturday, June 27, 2020

#SaturdaySpanks: Sin City Sweethearts -- #Spanking #Erotica #StripPoker


 Saturday Spanks banner
 
I’ve got a very intense Saturday Spanks excerpt for you today, from my outrageous erotica tale Sin City Sweethearts (Vegas Babes #3). It starts out with a game of strip poker, after dinner on Thanksgiving, and just gets wilder from there!

Blurb

Like many newlyweds, Annie and Ted work hard, economize, live in a too-small apartment, and make passionate love whenever possible. They’re just a bit more open-minded and inclusive about sex than most couplesthey met at The Fox’s Den strip club and bonded during an orgy. They’re delighted when fraternal twins Marcella and Madeleine McNabb move into the apartment downstairs. The innocent eighteen year old beauties have come to Las Vegas for university and to escape their overprotective family. Annie and Ted figure it’s practically their duty to educate the sisters about the real Sin City.

Marcie and Maddy prove to be apt pupils, with voracious carnal appetites. Before long they’re intimately involved not only with their upstairs neighbors, but also their hippie landlord and landlady, Maddy’s hunky coach, Marcie’s dominant department head, a handful of their classmates, a bevy of strippers from the Den and the infamous Foxy and Larry themselves. Then the four McNabb brothers come to town, threatening to drag the twins back to Ely, and things get truly wild.


Excerpt

All I’ve got is my underwear,” said Marcie, holding Joel’s gaze. She felt like she was already naked. Her nipples were hot and hard, throbbing each time they brushed the fabric of her dress. Moisture leaked from her slick and swollen pussy. Whoever won her panties would find them distinctly damp.

And how good are your cards?” he challenged. “Are you going to bet?”

She nodded. “And you?”

I’m pretty sure I’ll win. My jeans. Okay, call.”

Annie flipped over her cards. “Two pair, aces over queens.”

Her heart slamming against her ribs, Marcie exposed her three jacks. “Three of a kind.” She raised her eyes to Joel’s face. “And you?”

The pony-tailed host gave her a slow smile. “I’ve got three of a kind, too.” He tipped over a queen, and Marcie sucked in her breath. Grasping the hem of her dress, she pulled it over her head to expose her bare tits. Why wait?

Three sevens,” he continued, displaying the rest of his hand. “You win, Marcie.”

He shrugged his shirt off his shoulders and tossed it behind him. His blue jeans took longer to remove. His impressively rigid cock got in the way.

His shaft arced up from a salt-and-pepper tangle at his groin, seven inches at least, the skin pale and smooth-looking. His dick didn’t seem to have the veins she’d seen on the other guys she’d had. The swollen bulb, fatter than the rod itself, was a deep magenta, shiny with the fluids that leaked from his slit. Joel’s erection bobbed and twitched, as if preening under her rapt gaze.

Saliva pooled in Marcie’s mouth. He looked utterly delicious.

Care for a taste?” he offered, reading her mind.

She scurried over, on her hands and knees, scattering the cards in all directions. In seconds she was crouched between his spread legs, licking up his pre-cum and swirling her tongue over that tempting knob. Opening wider, she sucked half his length into his mouth.

Joel groaned. “Yeah, that’s right, little girl. Swallow me whole.”

She did just that, relaxing her throat and sinking down until her nose nestled in his grizzled pubes. He smelled incredible, spicy and exotic as incense. Meanwhile his flavor was different from Ted’s, more subtle, without the sharp tang she remembered. He’s a vegetarian, she recalled. They say that makes a difference.

Forming her lips into a tight circle around his rock-hard shaft, she slid up and down, backing off to lap at his cockhead, then plunging down to take every pulsing inch. He groaned and bucked under her, driving deeper, until she nearly choked on his flesh. He might not eat meat, she thought. But I do.

She gripped his corded thighs with both hands and sucked harder, feeling his muscles strain as he arched into her mouth. That’s right, she thought, picking up the pace. Give me your cum, Joel. Your own special whipped cream.

Her clit, still trapped inside her panties, felt huge and tender. Every time Joel’s dick hit the back of her throat, it pulled her further up the slope to her own climax. She wanted to touch herself, but he was thrashing so hard now that she couldn’t let go of his legs. Marcie squeezed her own thighs together and clenched her hungry pussy. She was so, so turned on. Wouldn’t it be cool if she could come just from sucking Joel off?

You naughty, naughty girl!” Ted’s voice, behind her, broke into her fantasy. Hands—presumably his—snagged the elastic waistband of her bikinis and dragged the sodden bit of fabric down to her bent knees. “If only your parents knew about the nasty way you’re celebrating Thanksgiving!” He swept one finger through her dripping cleft, pushing her to the very edge of coming, but snatched his hand away before she tumbled over.

Marcie moaned in protest around the cock in her mouth. The vibrations triggered more frenzied thrusts from the man underneath her. She arched back, futilely seeking more contact with the guy behind her.

You know what you need?” Ted pinched one butt cheek and she yowled at the sting, her voice muffled by Joel’s cock.

I need your fingers in my pussy, she thought, wild with arousal. Or your cock.

You need discipline, slut.” Another pinch, fingernails digging into her flesh. The pain took seconds to fade and when it did left her, strangely, wanting more.

Do that to my clit. Please!

You need a good, old-fashioned spanking!” In sync with his words, Ted brought his hand down hard on her right ass cheek.

It hurt, far more than she ever would have expected. Her skin exploded with a bright, sharp sensation, as if little knives were embedded in his palm. Her mouth fell open; the cock she’d been sucking slipped out. She didn’t even notice. Ted spanked the opposite cheek. She thought he’d lit a match and held it to her naked flesh.

Ow! Oh, god! Please…ow! Ted…” Her voice trailed off into inarticulate moans as he continued to spank her, alternating sides and locations. Sometimes his swats landed on the fleshy, full part of her butt. Sometimes, as if seeking variety, he laid his stinging blows on the sensitive skin near the join with her thighs. That felt like being broiled alive. Yet when he moved higher once more, she missed the exquisite burn.

Swat! Swat!

You wanted this, you little slut,” Ted said, panting with exertion. “You practically begged me to spank you.”

She had begged him. She’d had no idea.

Do you want me to stop?”

Tears in her eyes, pussy juice streaming down her legs, Marcie shook her head. Despite the pain—because of the pain?—she’d never been so aroused in her life. “Don’t—ow! —don’t stop,” she gasped.

You want to come, slut?”

Please…” she whimpered.

Open your legs. That’s right.”

Ted reached between her spread thighs to pinch her clit, exactly as she’d imagined. At the same time, he slid a wet finger deep into her asshole.

She flew apart, exploding into an orgasm so intense that the room spun dizzily around her. Colors danced on her closed eyelids, bright flashes she felt as well as saw. Pleasure flared in her belly, expanding like overheated gas. Lighting arced through her, from clit to ass and back, in a fiery circuit that consumed all rational thought.

Buy Links







Friday, June 26, 2020

Pesky Participles - #AmEditing #WritingCraft #Grammar



When I’m reading, editing or critiquing others’ work, improperly deployed participles are a pet peeve. I’m utterly incapable of ignoring them. Other readers notice comma confusions, tangled tenses, or missing modifiers. They might be especially sensitive to excessive alliteration. I can sail past a lot of nits without noticing, but an incorrectly constructed participle modifier will jump out at me like raincoat-clad pervert from behind a tree.

I know grammatical terms make a lot of people wince, so let me give you some examples from recent reads:

a) No longer aware of her physical surroundings, uncaring of the others watching them, he had become her world.

b) Nearly blinded, instinctively, Callie's hand went for the gun in her purse.

c) Measuring the length of his dick still waiting to ravage her burning cunt, Nina's eyes flew open.

Here are a few simpler, synthetic examples:

d) Panting with excitement, her heart pounded like a bass drum in her chest.

e) Entering the room unannounced, Joel’s attention flew to the naked woman sprawled on the couch.

f) Silenced by embarrassment, my cheeks flushed bright red.

I know some of you are probably thinking: What’s the problem? These are perfectly fine sentences. The meaning is crystal clear.

I beg to differ. The author’s intent is clear in most cases. However, if you apply the conventional rules of English to interpreting these sentences, you end up drawing some strange, even nonsensical conclusions. Silent cheeks? A blinded hand?

The complexities of English grammatical structures are the bane of many. There are dozens of different ways to express the same idea. A single sentence may consist of many clauses as well as modifying phrases.

In the face of this complexity, we fall back on the principle of proximity. When you have a modifier, that is, a phrase that describes some entity in the main clause of the sentence, we assume that the modifier is describing the subject of the main clause, which normally follows right after the modifier.

If the modifier is a participle (that is, a verb turned into an adjective by adding “ing” or “ed”), it is assumed that the implied subject of this verb is the subject of the following clause.

Here’s the crux of the issue in the ungrammatical sentences above. If we follow this convention in our interpretation, the results are silly or confusing.

In a), both the adjective (“no longer aware”) and participle (“uncaring”) modifiers clearly have a female subject. Yet the subject of the main clause is “he” - not the person who’s “uncaring”.

In b) the conventional rules would indicate that Callie’s hand was blinded.

Example c) is a bit more nuanced, since Nina’s eyes might well be what she used to estimate the length of her partner’s cock. More likely though, the true subject of “measuring” is Nina herself – not her eyes as suggested by the interpretation rules.

The three synthetic examples make the problem more obvious. In each case, the real subject is a person, while the implied subject is a part or aspect of the person.

Now at this point, you might be thinking: who cares?

Well, that’s your right. However, when I encounter this sort of ungrammatical construction, even in an otherwise well-written story, I cringe. Furthermore, my opinion of the author’s skill declines a bit. Perhaps that’s not fair, but I expect serious authors to be conscious of the rules of the language – implicitly if not explicitly.

Elitist? Maybe. However, I can’t help my reactions. I suspect I’m not the only reader who feels this way.

So – assuming you’re editing your tale, and notice one of these errors – what can you do about it?

There are three basic solutions:

1) Change the subject in the independent clause to match the modifier;

2) Expand the modifier into a clause that explicitly specifies a subject (which can then be different from the independent clause);

3) Make the modifying clause into a separate sentence.

Let’s look at example (b) and apply each of these solutions.

Solution 1: Nearly blinded, Callie instinctively reached for the gun in her purse.

Solution 2: As the flash nearly blinded her, Callie's hand instinctively went for the gun in her purse.

Solution 3: The flash nearly blinded her. Instinctively, Callie’s hand went for the gun in her purse.

The best revision depends on stylistic concerns, as well as on the specific sentence. For example (a), I think the sentence should be split, since the subject of the modifiers and of the main clause are totally different.

She was no longer aware of her physical surroundings, uncaring of the others watching them. He had become her world.

In addition to fixing the grammar problem, this revision (I feel) increases the impact of the sentences.

If you’re willing to admit that this sort of construction is a problem, how can you improve your ability to notice your own errors?

Alas, we’re all somewhat blind to our own faults. You can begin, though, by becoming more conscious of your choices when framing a sentence. Should you use a modifying phrase at the start of a sentence? A dependent clause? Would your ideas be better expressed by splitting the thought into two sentences?

Normally people use modifying phrases like this to convey a relationship. When you use a participle, you are implying a temporal relationship. A present participle (“ing”) indicates two concurrent actions. For instance, Joel noticed the naked woman on the couch at the same time as he entered the room. A past participle (“ed”, or “en” for some verbs) suggests sequential actions. A flash blinded Callie, then she instinctively reached for her gun.

Be sure that this implied temporal relationship makes sense, and is what you really want to convey.

You probably should not try to think about this sort of issue when you’re writing your first draft, or you’ll get bogged down. However sentence structure alternatives should be one of your considerations when you’re self-editing.

Of course, the best approach may be to have someone else read and critique your stories, helping to shine light on your blind spots. You can offer the same service to someone else, since their weaknesses are likely to differ from yours.

Thursday, June 25, 2020

Review Tuesday moved to Thursday! Truth or Daire by Keta Diablo -- #ReviewTuesday #EroticRomance #Novella


Truth or Daire cover

Truth or Daire by Keta Diablo
Kindle Desktop Publishing, 2020

Cagney Kissler has been saving her V-card for that special someone. When her good-looking, fast-talking temporary flatmate Daire finally manages to seduce her, she wonders why she waited so long. Then she comes home from her job at Bloomingdale’s with her brand new, sexy lingerie, anticipating another night of delirious pleasure, and discovers he’s a lazy, lying cheat who’s just using her so he’ll have a place to crash. She kicks him out, but the damage to her self-esteem is not so easily repaired.

Fortunately, she has already planned a week-long winter escape to visit her best friend Lily in Fort Myers, Florida. The warm sun and the tropical environment are just what she needs to help her get over her heartache. When she meets Evan Truth – gorgeous, wealthy, considerate and insightful – she discovers how shallow her feelings for Daire really were. Evan’s kiss ignites her; his touch drives her crazy with desire. Meanwhile he’s such a decent, generous soul that she can’t help falling in love. But Cagney’s time in Florida is short and she knows Evan can never be more than a holiday fling. Flying back to her empty life in frigid, gray Chicago might be the hardest thing she’s ever done.

Truth or Daire is a brief but engaging erotic romance that does a fantastic job portraying the connection between two soul mates. The love scenes are gorgeous, while the deliciously described Florida setting reflects the warmth of Cagney’s and Evan’s connection. This 46 page novella provides a full narrative arc, with a conflict centered on the physical and psychological distance between the protagonists’ lives. Cagney’s wrenching parting from her beloved had me aching for her. However, this conflict is rapidly resolved in the last few pages and the happy ending assured. Indeed the obstacles dissolve, perhaps because they existed only in Cagney’s mind to start with.

Although it feels complete, this book was too short for my tastes. Ms. Diablo doesn’t have the word count to go into any depth. For instance, Evan is a veteran of the Afghan war, but we never really get to see how that (presumably horrific) experience affected him. We also know very little about the heroine, other than the fact that she’s a bit na├»ve and certainly more conservative than her rather wild Florida girlfriend. Truth or Daire offers a mere sketch of a relationship between two characters whom I’d like to know better.

Of course the answer to the implicit question in the book title was always Evan, but Daire reappears near the end, in a great scene that shows how far Cagney has come in a short time. I think Daire could have become more than just a brief comic relief. The same is true with Lily. It seems a shame to create such colorful characters but not take advantage of them.

In general, I have a personal preference for longer books. If, on the contrary, you’re looking for a quick romance hit, with lingering sweetness and luscious heat, Truth or Daire may be just the thing.


Tuesday, June 23, 2020

You give me what I need... #MFRWsteam #EroticRomance #Giveaway

Miranda's Masks teaser

Welcome to the first MFRW Steam Blog Hop! If you like your romance on the spicy side, you’re in the right place.

Today I’m sharing a bit from my taboo erotic romance Miranda’s Masks. Hope you like it! (If you do, you’ll find buy links near the end of the post... )

You could also win a copy! Just leave me a comment. I’ll randomly choose one person to receive an ebook copy of this searing, full-length novel in their choice of formats.

Blurb

Shy and serious by dayinsatiable by night.

Betrayed and abandoned by her first lover, shy and studious Miranda Cahill freezes in response to any sexual attention from someone she knows and likes.

During the day, she works diligently on her doctoral thesis. At night, she finds herself drawn into increasingly extreme sexual encounters with strangers. Public coupling, multiple partners, age play, spankings, bondage, lesbian lust—each experience reveals new dimensions of her depravity. Her anonymous secret life begins to take over when she discovers that the masked seducer she meets in a sex club and the charismatic young professor courting her are the same man.

Dickens scholar Mark Anderson seems like an affable, uncomplicated Midwesterner, but he has hidden depths, myriad talents, and an unlimited appetite for erotic variety. With Mark as her guide, Miranda gradually comes to understand and accept the intricacy of her own desires, as well as to trust her heart. 

 


Excerpt

Mark! Where was he, anyway? When last she had looked, he had been at the back of the room, but everyone was gone now. She was suddenly hollow and aching with longing for her lover.

As if in answer to her questing mind, she felt a touch on the inside of her thigh. Mark? She had the urge to look under the tablecloth, to confirm that it was he, but something held her back. A finger alternated, stroking her nylon-clad thigh, then brushing the bare skin above her stocking. The contrast was exquisite, the results electric. The finger-dance along her thighs continued. Now another hand drifted lightly over her mound, tickling her through the satin. She felt brief regret as her juices thoroughly soaked the expensive wisp of lingerie, before lust overwhelmed all other concerns.

Slumped in her chair, she spread her thighs, shamelessly offering access to her hidden partner. He responded by tracing the outline of her pubis with his fingers, along the edges of the thong where fabric met flesh. Miranda writhed. She wanted him to touch her inside the garment, to rip it off and plunge his digits into her. Still, he played with her, rubbing the slippery fabric against her clit, forcing the damp cloth up between her legs, wedging the thong into the crevice between her cheeks and rocking it back and forth over her anus.

Now she felt moist heat, delicious, melting her. His mouth hovered over her sex and he simply breathed. His hands were quiet, holding her thighs wide. There was only his mouth, his breath, and the images unrolling in her mind. She felt as though he were holding a burning candle to her clit.
 
She saw herself staked spread-eagle on a crag, her privates baked by a tropical sun. She felt herself bathed in molten gold that pouring over her folds, filling her, gilding her. The heat swelled until she erupted against his lips, juices like lava overflowing her cavities. She whimpered as her climax seared her. Hot tongues of pleasure lapped at her satin-sheathed pussy. Flames flickered on her closed eyelids.

Dimly, she felt her garters being unhooked and her soaking panties removed. Strong arms lifted her. She felt starched linen against her buttocks. She was seated on the table. Opening her eyes at last, she found Mark standing between her legs, unzipping his fly.

She wanted to speak, but again, she felt that weird sense of constraint. Mark’s face was serious, intent, with no trace of his normal grin. He loosed his erection and Miranda thought it looked oddly unfamiliar. It stood at a different angle, perhaps, or curved in a different direction, or perhaps it was a bit thicker than she remembered. She was puzzled, but enormously aroused. Mark grabbed her legs and pulled them up onto his shoulders, then without preliminaries, he plunged into her well-lubricated cunt.

Briefly, her mind was besieged by small worries. The table was strewn with water glasses. He was not wearing a condom. The meeting room door was wide-open—at any moment someone could happen by and discover them. Then her mind dissolved in a sea of sensation and she gave herself up completely to her partner’s cock.

He felt glorious. He stretched her beyond belief, burying his rod in her slippery depths, battering her with his hardness. There was a new urgency to his fucking. This was not a game or a scene. There were no masks, no roles. He was not in control. There was no technique here, only pure need. Miranda responded to his naked lust in kind, totally forgetting who and where she was.

She arched her back to meet his thrusts, forcing him deeper. He pressed her thighs back toward her, so that she was bent double, and pounded her from above, his fingernails biting into her calves. Miranda knew nothing, no pain, no fear, only blind and inarticulate pleasure. Together, thrashing and moaning, scattering water glasses and tearing clothing, they climbed the steep ladder to ecstasy. Together, they reached the summit, and felt everything collapse beneath them. They flew.

Later, they lay together on the ruined table, still speechless with a kind of awe. Mark ran his fingers through Miranda’s tangled locks and touched her lips with his own. He was smiling again, but there was something unfamiliar in his expression, something deep, strange, tinged with sadness. She suddenly recalled her cloakroom fuck and understood that this was its counterpoint, equally anonymous and public, but sparked by love. Stranger and lover, thought Miranda. You give me what I need.

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