Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 5, 2020

Review Tuesday: Lucky You by Carl Hiaasen - #ReviewTuesday #Humor #Satire #Florida


Lucky You - original cover

Lucky You by Carl Hiaasen
Pan Books, 1991

Once a week, veterinary technician Jo Layne Lucks stops at the Grab ‘N Go convenience store in tiny Grange, Florida to purchase a lottery ticket. Her numbers never change; each represents one of the five failed relationships in her life. She figures she should get something from those losers. When she actually hits the twenty eight million dollar jackpot, though, she discovers that her good luck comes at a high price.

Two white supremacists from down-state played the same numbers, so the prize will be split. However, Bode and Chub aren’t satisfied with just fourteen million. They’re determined to have the whole pot, especially when they learn that the owner of the other ticket is a Black woman. Bode and his henchman plan to use the lottery proceeds to finance the White Clarion Aryans, the militia Bode has founded to combat the imminent invasion of Nato troops from the Bahamas. They have it on good authority that the blue UN helicopters will land any day, to hand America over to the dark-skinned foreigners who’ve overrun the country. Hence, they feel more than justified showing up at Jo Layne’s house, giving her a savage beating, and stealing her lottery stub. They get the ticket, though neither escapes unscathed from Jo Layne’s ferocious efforts at self-defense.

Tom Krone considers himself a serious journalist. He’s sick of writing trivial human interest stories for the local paper that employs him. When his editor sends him to Grange to interview the young woman who has just won fourteen million dollars, that’s the last straw. He quits his job, but somehow ends up in Grange anyway, fascinated by the tough, principled and attractive Jo Layne. Together, they track down the racist bullies who assaulted her. The wild, dangerous chase gives them a chance to get to know and trust one another – but there’s a very real chance that when they finally corner the vicious, well-armed villains, their luck will run out.

Carl Hiaasen’s Florida-based novels have been called “crime fiction”, but I see them more as social satire. However you label them, his books offer outrageous hilarity layered over a strong moral compass. Lucky You is fantastically entertaining, with tight plotting, snappy dialogue and lots of quirky, vividly drawn characters. Aside from Jo Layne, Tom, and the villains, Lucky You introduces us to Amber, the clever, sexy Hooters waitress who so entrances Chub that he has her kidnapped; Katie the judge’s wife, a devout Catholic who has a passionate fling with Tom then feels morally obligated to share every detail with her husband – leading the jealous judge to arrange Tom’s murder; narcissistic actress Mary Andrea, Tom’s estranged wife, who’s hiding out in Montana to prevent Tom’s lawyer from serving her divorce papers, because nobody in her family has ever gotten divorced; Shiner, the none-too-bright convenience store clerk who’s sucked in to Bode’s and Chub’s nefarious plot, but saved by Amber; a gaggle of Grange townsfolk, who make their living by manufacturing religious manifestations like a crying Madonna and fake stigmata; and Moffitt, the savvy “Man in Black” federal agent who’s futilely in love with Jo Layne.

Hiassen shows insight into and sympathy for all of his characters, even the bad guys. That’s one reason why this is such a feel-good novel. You can almost see the author shaking his head at Bode’s and Chub’s vile antics. They ultimately get what they deserve, a fate one wouldn’t wish upon anyone. Hiassen’s universe is simultaneously random and orderly. Characters reap what they sow.

Female characters dominate the narrative, Jo Layne and Amber in particular. They both understand the power of feminine allure, but ultimately prevail more through brains and bravery than beauty. Though Tom is officially the hero, he’s mostly dragged along for the ride, compelled by his feelings for the impetuous veterinary technician. Many of the other male characters (for instance, Tom’s editor Sinclair and Domenick the religious scam artist) end up seeming slightly ridiculous. Still, Hiaasen is never mean or petty. In his fictional Florida, everyone has his schtick, and that’s okay, as long as nobody gets hurt.

I should mention that Florida itself is a sort of character in this novel. I don’t know the state well at all, but Hiaasen portrays the place as a natural wonder at great risk from its inhabitants. A good bit of the action takes place on the wild, deserted islands in Florida Bay – still enough of a wilderness (at least when this book was published, in 1991 originally) that a man stranded on one is more or less condemned to death.

Despite the fact that Lucky You was published almost three decades ago, it doesn’t feel at all dated. Alas, the pernicious sentiments and beliefs displayed by Bode and Chub are more prevalent now than ever. Fortunately, Hiaasen’s not interested in penning a political rant. He allows readers to draw their own conclusions.

If you’re looking for some laughs to take your mind off the Covid-19 situation, get yourself a copy of this book – and count yourself lucky.



Wednesday, February 26, 2020

Vegas Babes is now a boxed set! #Preorder #KU #Erotica #BoxedSet


Vegas Babes cover

I’m so excited! This Saturday will mark the release of my very first boxed set. I’ve bundled all five titles in my Vegas Babes series into one humongous volume (over 600 pages!) and published it on Kindle Unlimited. This is also an experiment – I’ve always used a range of platforms, but since the individual installments from the series are still available on Smashwords, BN and other sites, I don’t feel too guilty!

Anyway, if you’re really eager, you can pre-order your copy today:


The book will be available on February 29, a special day that happens only once every four years. Seems very appropriate that it’s also Sadie Hawkins Day, when gals are allowed to propose to guys, and generally ask for what they want. That’s the Vegas Babes, all right!

About the Book

Trust the ladies of Las Vegas to show you a good time.

Meet the Vegas Babes—lusty ladies eager for new carnal adventures. Technically virginal Francesca celebrates her wedding eve with a scandalous performance at a Vegas strip club. Classy Ivy League grad Laura discovers her inner slut with the help of an entire Scottish rugby team. Red-headed Annie and her well-hung accountant hubby provide a sex-drenched Sin City education for their gorgeous coed neighbors. Pure, untouched Patricia wages a guerrilla campaign against kink but finds herself captive in a Dom’s web of desire.

Then there’s hot mama Chantal, elegant Domme Professor Inez, bossy MILF Giulia, voluptuous she-male Rosa, dirty little old lady Althea —you don’t have to be sweet young thing to be a babe! Venture into a world of exuberant sexual excess and open-minded romance, where no fantasy is too wild to explore and everyone gets a thrilling, sticky happy ending.

This boxed set collects the complete five book Vegas Babes series, and includes a lively introduction by Larry Archer, creator of The Fox’s Den.



Join me on Saturday for a big release party with excerpts, fun and prizes! (including free books and a $10 gift certificate)

As you’ll find out if you buy the book – I don’t believe in doing things in a small way when it comes to erotica!



Monday, February 24, 2020

Welcome to dating in avocado toastland... @jkentauthor #romance #romcom #contemporary



Feisty banner

An all-new standalone from New York Times bestselling author julia kent

I’m not too proud to admit that finding Mr. Right involves swiping right. Right? Welcome to dating in avocado toastland.

Here I am, on my first blind date, ever, courtesy of a smartphone app and my two annoying best friends.

So what is Chris “Fletch” Fletcher doing, walking across the room, looking at his phone like he’s pattern matching a picture to find a real person he’s never met before?

Oh.

Oh, no.

The guy I drop-kicked in seventh grade cannot be my blind date. The guy who earned me this infernal nickname.

That’s right.

Feisty.


More from New York Times bestselling author Julia Kent as Fiona “Feisty” Gaskill gets her chance at love - drop-kick included.

Other Standalone Books in the Series







Buy links

Amazon (all countries): https://geni.us/AMZFeistyJK






Audiobook narrated by Erin Mallon:



iTunes: Coming Soon

Excerpt

Fletch?” I gasp as Perky smiles and walks away, abandoning me in my time of need.

Hey, Fiona. What're you doing here?” He looks down at my drink. “Nice penis.”

Excuse me?”

He points to my chai latte. “Perky did a good job. I was in here last week and she made some beautiful flower patterns on my latte.” He frowns, then his eyebrows shoot up. “Hold on. Those weren't flowers, were they?”

I laugh.

Wow. And they seemed so... detailed. And gorgeous.”

My sides are splitting.

Please... stop... flowers...” I gasp.

That latte did give me a sudden desire to go to a Georgia O'Keeffe show, though.”

I rush to take a sip of my chai latte and make the penis go away. Fletch watches me, mouth spreading into a wider grin, his green eyes shining as he crosses his arms over his chest.

It's only then that I realize he's wearing real clothes. A crisp, light purple dress shirt, open at the neck, tucked into khahis. He has actual leather shoes – and not for weight lifting or cross-training – on his feet. His hair is styled but not sticky, and he has a close, clean shave.

His aftershave is divine.

You're not in workout gear. Or a paramedic's uniform,” I say as I blot the foam on the tip of my nose, wondering if it's ruined my makeup.

And you look lovely tonight. A little overdressed for a Beanerino latte with Perky,” he says, waving to her from across the room as she swings a hand towel in the air like she's a date-night air traffic controller.

I have a date.”

So do I.”

You don't have a man bun, do you?”

He looks down at his crotch. “Is that like camel toe for guys?”



About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. Since 2013, she has sold more than 2 million books, with 4 New York Times bestsellers and more than 19 appearances on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been translated into French and German, with more titles releasing in 2020 and beyond.

From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire she met in a romantic comedy).

She lives in New England with her husband and three children where she is the only person in the household with the gene required to change empty toilet paper rolls.

Social Media Links:









Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.



Saturday, January 11, 2020

Saturday Spanks: Spank-O-Gram -- #RomanticKink #Humor #SaturdaySpanks


Saturday Spanks banner

Happy Saturday!

I’ve got a fun Saturday Spanks excerpt for you, from my short story collection Hearts & Handcuffs: Romantic Kink. This is from a humorous tale entitled “Spank-O-Gram”.


Vell then.” She seated herself on the couch, back straight. Her taut skirt rode up, exposing her meaty thighs. “On my lap. I do not have time to vaste.” I noticed that her eyes were light, a grayish blue the color of Siberian ice. “Unless you vant to lean over a chair...”

No—um—your lap is fine. But...” I marveled at my daring. “Maybe I could spank you instead?”

No, no, that is spankee-gram! Much more expensive. Not that this service is cheap, of course. I am the best spanker on the vest coast. Your friend requested me especially. On the Internet.”

'But who...?” I began, though I had some suspicions.

Anonymous gift.” She cut me short. “Now, get in position. Or do I have to wrestle you down? I vas Commonwealth of Independent States vomen's champion four years in a row...”

I believed her. Would she really force me to take a birthday spanking? I wasn't sure I liked the idea, but my cock did.

You have ten seconds,” she told me. She arched one eyebrow. “If you're not ready by then, I vill leave.”

No, no, don't leave!” Awkward and embarrassed by the lump in my shorts, I struggled to arrange myself across her lap. With my chest on the sofa and my pelvis cradled by her warm, well-muscled thighs, my knees didn't quite reach the floor.

Professional that she was, she saw my problem immediately. She tossed a pillow onto the carpet. “Here. Ve don't want any rug burn. No, only your ass should be red.” She laughed at her own pleasantry, a short bark that sent chills up my spine.

I squirmed a bit, trying to get comfortable. My cock stretched crosswise across her legs and pressed against my belly. It was sweet torture.

Slowly and deliberately, she pulled my shorts down to expose my butt. I felt myself blush like some kid. My erection throbbed, separated from her firm flesh by nothing but a layer of thin nylon. 
“Let me varn you,” she said. “I do not want your nasty gunk on my suit. If you come on me, I vill really punish you. I have a selection of canes in my car. Do you understand?”

Yes—um, yes, ma’am,” I mumbled. The mention of the cane only made me harder. I folded my arms under my head, breathed deeply and tried to relax.

Are you ready, Mr. Sandberg? The contract specifies fifty strokes.” She gave one of my buttocks a light squeeze, as though testing its resiliency.

Fifty?” Could I take that much? But after all, she was just a woman...

You can refuse,” she added, as though reading my mind. “Othervise, sign the consent form.”

Without dislodging me from her lap, she reached over to retrieve her clipboard and shoved it in my face.

I didn't bother to read the fine print. I just scrawled my signature at the bottom.

Good. Let's begin. If you vant me to stop, you must say the vord ‘purple’. Understand?”

I just nodded. Every second she delayed made it worse—both the fear and the lust.

Her first slap landed on my right cheek. The sound of flesh on flesh drowned out the TV. My ass stung though I'd been pricked by a hundred needles. Heat flowed out from the point of contact, across my bare skin, waking every nerve.

One. I vill count,” she added. “So you can concentrate.”

Smack! Her palm landed on my other cheek. “Two.” I reveled in the dual burn. Slam! “Three.” She aimed for the same spot as her first spank and I felt the difference, a throbbing ache under the raw sting. “Four.” I groaned as she returned to my left. “Five. Six.” The balance between pleasure and pain shifted from second to second. “Seven. Eight. Nine.” When she made contact, my ass screamed in protest. Then trails of delicious fire skittered away from the spot she'd hit. I twisted and writhed, trying to get away from her inexorable hand, succeeding only in amplifying the sensations.

My cock rubbed against the slippery nylon, so swollen I was sure I'd burst any second.

Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.” She was as regular as a metronome. I knew exactly when she'd strike. That did not make it any easier to bear. She picked up the tempo as she reached twenty, and also increased the force. Maybe she thought I was getting used to it. Fat chance. I gasped and groaned, my butt pulsing with heat under her skilled palm.

Twenty nine. Thirty.” She paused. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I discovered that I was shaking.

She peered down into my face. “Do you vant me to stop? Your ass is red as the flag on Lenin's tomb.”

Um—no, no ... go on. The full fifty...”

One moment. My hand is getting sore.” I felt her shift underneath me, then I caught the rich smell of tanned leather. My cock leaped. “Good think I brought my gloves. Twenty one!”


Monday, December 30, 2019

Review: Splendificent - #Review #UrbanFantasy #Babes


splendificent cover

Splendificent by Dacy Alex
Roxy Kitty Publishing, 2019

Giselle Nyfall would never claim to be extraordinary. The buxom blond California girl spends her free time streaming video games, crushing on celebrities and cruising the web to research unusual sexual practices. She has a dream, though – to get out from under the thumb of her controlling socialite mom and move to New York City for college.

When, against all expectations, the C+ student is accepted to elite Hemera University, Giselle is initially ecstatic. Then her dorm room turns out to be non-existent, due to a computer glitch. Not to worry, though. Anika Lindgren, the curvaceous and seductive Head of Student Services, informs Giselle that she’s being housed in an Upper East Side condo reserved for “extraordinary young women”.

The baroquely-decorated, luxuriously-appointed condo makes Giselle wonder whether this assignment might also be an error. Her doubts grow when she meets her roommates: tough, foul-mouthed Boston boxer Fleur Flanagan; flighty, violent, sparkle-dispensing southern belle Dusty Blackwood; social-media-obsessed redhead Sofi Poe; and “Viking Barbie” Tristabelle Elvrina, who claims to be an actual princess. They’re all drop-dead gorgeous, with a preference for skimpy outfits that show off their ample charms. And they all seem to be sizing up poor Giselle – whether for their next sex partner, their next meal, or their next murder victim isn’t quite clear.

When zombified husbands start showing up at the condo, Giselle discovers that her apartment mates are more than just bodacious babes. Each of them is a supernatural being of some sort. Fleur’s part vampire, part succubus; Dusty’s a failed fairy; Sofi is a kitsune, a Japanese fox shifter; and Tristabelle is the scion of an ancient Elven royal family. As more men fall to the sex curse, magic-enslaved minions kidnap Giselle for dark rituals, and raven-headed demons attack their limo, the girls’ powers are put to the test. Will they survive the bacchanalian excesses of the wildest party in the Underworld? Just how extraordinary are these young women? And what is Giselle’s role in this salacious dance of good and evil?

It’s worth buying Splendificent just for the fabulous cover. I defy you not to drool at the lovingly rendered images of Giselle and her supernaturally-talented roommates. Of course, you can just ogle them online. If you don’t actually read the book, though, you’ll be missing a treat.

The novel is marketed as “urban fantasy”, but in my opinion, it really defies categorization. True, it’s set in the quintessential city (New York), and teems with the type of magical creatures who normally populate the urban fantasy genre. However, rather than fleshing out a universe of paranormal forces that parallel everyday existence, the author seems more interested in the flesh of his enticing female characters. The bad guys are basically foils for showing off the girls’ skills and their substantial feminine charms.

At the same time, this isn’t really erotica. For one thing, there’s very little actual sex until the final chapters, just a lot of titillation (with the emphasis on “tits”).

But who cares?

The book is hilariously over-the-top, and the silly but snappy dialogue kept me giggling. Giselle, the “chosen one”, is far from the typical urban fantasy heroine. She’s physically clumsy, socially awkward, and not overly intelligent. Still, you can’t help but love her innocence and bumbling sincerity.

Although magic isn’t really the true focus of Splendificent, the book nevertheless brims with imagination. The author does a great job conveying the strangeness of Giselle’s experience. As an example, here’s one of my favorite passages. The girls are desperately fighting off a demon attack.

"Mistlewoe come to me!" Tristabelle howled behind Giselle.

Giselle saw something that left her stammering, her mind struggling to process this glorious sight that had no clue it didn't belong in this world.

It was a sword -- that she knew. It was being held by a very angry, very murderous person who was supposed to be Princess Tristabelle Elvrina of Golden Land.

The hilt of this treasure was made of translucent ice, with veins of the same substance running through it. The pommel or end of the sword was white ice magic crystal. Impossibly, its crossguard was a mind-bending set of wings that flapped as this murderous woman lunged forward. A lunge headed by a blade made of ice and tangled in mistletoe. Its icy blade was encircled by also frozen vines.

Giselle felt a pinch of pity for what she guessed were the countless victims of this mystical weapon. Even when the ice blade plunged into the demon's stomach, and his grotesque body began melting into sludge that disappeared when it hit the ground, her sympathy went out.

The person who was supposed to be a princess of an insignificant Scandinavian country let her sword fade from her hand in a cloud of sparkles.

Overall, it’s rather difficult to describe Splendificent. However, if you appreciate originality, humor, sexual innuendo and gorgeous women, I suspect you will enjoy it as much as I did.





Friday, May 10, 2019

A Day in the Life of a Writer - #TheBeatles #Poetry #Humor #AmWriting


By Source (WP:NFCC#4), Fair use, Link

A Day in the Life 
(to the tune of The Beatles' classic)

I read the news today, oh boy,
About a lucky gal who made the grade,
Although the news made me quite green,
Well I still had to laugh;
I read her biograph.
She was both lonely and unknown,
Older than I am by a year or two.
Six major pubcos turned her down.
A decade on, she scored;
Nobody expected her to win the Nat'nal Book Award...

I saw a film today, oh boy,
Based on a novel I have always loved,
A crowd of people forked out cash
I couldn't bear to look
How they raped the book.
I'd love to turn you on.

Woke up, fell out of bed,
Brushed the cat fur from my head,
Grabbed a cup of joe and went to read my mail.
Found my keyboard blocked by a black tail...
Read my last day's work and winced,
Tried to keep myself convinced
I could write at all. I penned a line or two.
Checked when it was due and went into a dream...

I read the news today, oh boy,
The vampire lady made another mil.
The New York Times still didn't call
Two K seems awfully small
Now I know how hard it is to publish anything at all.
I'd love to turn you on ...

(to my books, that is....)

Sunday, May 5, 2019

Sizzling Sunday: Earth Girls are Easy -- #scifi #erotica #freereading


flying saucer

This Sizzling Sunday, I have a brand new, free story for you. Enjoy!
 
Earth Girls are Easy

I’d always thought alien abductions happened at night. You’re driving down some dark, lonely country road, when a cone of blinding light captures your vehicle and sucks you into the sky. Or you’ve just donned your pajamas and brushed your teeth when a suspicious noise lures you into your shadow-filled backyard. Like a sleepwalker, you drift helplessly up the gang-plank into the silver saucer that hovers above your lawn.

In my case, it was barely eight am. I was on the final stretch of my morning run along the Charles, panting and sweaty, looking forward to a shower, then a productive morning in my lab. I summoned a final burst of energy for the last hundred yards. Instead of speeding up, however, I slowed to a crawl. My arms and legs suddenly felt leaden. The air around me congealed into a sort of sticky jelly that made every movement a struggle. The traffic noise from Memorial Drive died away. The rippling river froze. The sun-lit sparkle on the water dimmed. I hardly had time to be frightened before the world blinked out of existence.

The first thing I noticed upon waking was the chill. Goose bumps rose on my bare arms. My nipples contracted to hard knots under my perspiration-soaked sports bra. A faint hint of ozone hung in the cool, still air.

You are cold.” Not a question but an assertion, spoken in a deep, resonant voice that seemed to come from all directions. Instantly the atmosphere warmed to a more comfortable temperature.

As I tried to locate the source of this comment, I came to my next realization; I was bound, face up, secured to a padded table by smooth, flexible restraints that encircled my wrists and ankles.

Hey! What’s going on?” I yanked futilely at my bonds. They tightened a bit in response. At the same time, the material softened as if to avoid damage to my skin. “Let me go!”

No answer.

The domed ceiling glowed with a diffuse, soothing light. I craned my neck to look around. The peculiar chamber had no angles at all, which made its size difficult to judge. Featureless, shell-pink walls curved up to meet the luminous panels above me, unbroken by any sign of a window or door. The platform upon which I was restrained appeared to be the only furniture.

I struggled to remember how I’d arrived here, to understand my strange environment. I’d been running, then—nothing. Had I suffered some bizarre variety of stroke? Was this a dream? Was I in a coma? A quick inventory revealed no pain or apparent injury. My mental state had none of the fuzziness I associated with dreams. The table beneath me felt real and solid, though as I shifted position, the surface did likewise, adapting and molding itself to my body. My bonds were convincingly real as well.

Where am I?” I called. As if in response, a circular aperture appeared in the wall to my left, and a figure stepped into the room.
Greetings, Dr. Morrison.”

I should have been astonished by the fact that he knew my name, but I was distracted by more primitive concerns. My breath caught; my nipples peaked; a hungry ache settled in my pelvis. The man who stood beside me was beyond gorgeous. Tall and lean, with wavy golden hair, classically masculine features, broad shoulders and a subtly sculpted bare chest, he looked like some Greek god—except for the lavender skin, violet eyes and hands with two thumbs.

Read the rest of the story on my website!

And you can find lots more free erotica and romance on my free reading page.


Tuesday, April 30, 2019

Review Tuesday: Soulless by Gail Carriger - #ReviewTuesday #steampunk #paranormal


Soulless cover

Soulless by Gail Carriger
Orbit, 2014

When respectable spinster Alexia Tarabotti retires to the library for tea and treacle tart at poorly-provisioned society ball, the last thing she expects to encounter is a vampire, especially a vampire who’s not aware of her unique nature. Miss Tarabotti is a preternatural, a human without a soul whose touch neutralizes the power of vampires, werewolves, ghosts and other excessively soulful creatures. Well-educated supernaturals would normally avoid her, but the library vampire, peculiarly clueless, attacks her instead. She inadvertently kills the creature in self-defense, leading to raft of complications.

Foremost among these is the bossy, overbearing and distractingly gorgeous werewolf Lord Maccon, head of the supernatural investigation bureau. With her half-Italian heritage, dark complexion, advanced age, and lack of soul, Alexia can’t expect to attract the Scottish Alpha, but she’d deeply appreciate being taken seriously. Instead he rejects all her offers to assist in probing the strange appearances and disappearances of supernaturals that are plaguing London. Of course, Miss Tarabotti is not the sort to be put off by his refusal, so she begins some discreet inquiries on her own. They lead her to a secret cabal of scientists with a dastardly plot to destroy the supernaturals upon whom the greatness of the British Empire depends – and into grave danger not only to her own person, but to those she loves.

Soulless is the rollicking first volume of Gail Carriger’s Parasol Protectorate series. Set in an alternative Victorian period in which vampires and werewolves have been integrated into British society, the book seamlessly melds steam punk, fantasy, humor and romance. Miss Tarabotti is a larger than life character with a prodigious intellect, a sharp tongue and a healthy appetite for both food and the pleasures of the flesh. Needless to say, she’s a fine match for the gruff werewolf Lord Macon, and the distinctly carnal nature of their developing relationship adds spice to the plot.

I don’t want to spoil your experience by telling you more. Quite simply, I loved Soulless. I’ve pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I’m going to break down and buy the next volume soon.




Wednesday, April 17, 2019

Back List Blast: Hot Brides in Vegas - #erotica #giveaway #FF #BackListBlast


Hot Brides in Vegas cover
 
In today’s Back List Blast post, I’m going back to 2017, and the first book of my wild Vegas Babes series. This book includes a wide variety of sexual situations; I’ve chosen an excerpt that includes FF interactions.

Please don’t forget to comment! If you don’t you can’t win! (Free book every day, $25 GC for one person during the ten day event.)

Hot Brides in Vegas (Vegas Babes Book 1)
MF/FF humorous HEA erotica

Never underestimate the power of a horny bride.

Francesca Torellis tycoon father is throwing a lavish Las Vegas wedding for his only child. Her fiancé Jake and his buddies set out for a stag night, exploring the fleshpots of Sin City. Meanwhile, Fran and her bridesmaids Laura and Chantal are stuck at the resort under the watchful eye of her stern Aunt Giulia, who has promised her brother that Franny will come to the altar a virgin.

Frustrated and annoyed by these double standards, the young women hatch a plan to escape their chaperone and have some fun of their own. With the help of a susceptible concierge, a butch ex-cop limo driver and a scandalous French couturiere, they find their way to The Foxs Den, the most exclusiveand outrageous—gentlemen’s club in the city. Owner Larry Archer and his crew of strippers, bouncers, voyeurs and sluts are more than happy to welcome the delectable trio as contestants performing at the club’s famous Amateur Night.

The gleeful permissiveness of the Den challenges the women’s assumptions and undermines their inhibitions. Complications ensue when Jake and his groomsmen arrive to find Fran in the midst of her strip act. Then Aunt Giulia crashes the party, determined to save her virgin niece, and things get really sticky—both figuratively and literally.

Will love triumph? Will Francesca be drawn over to the dark side? Is there a difference?

Excerpt

The dressing room’s here,” said Linda, pointing to a door on her right. “Across the way is Larry’s office. Next to the office is the VIP suite.” She caught Chantal’s skeptical expression. “Some customers get extra special treatment, honey.”

I can imagine,” Chantal replied, her voice dripping with irony.

The manager knocked on the dressing room door, then opened it without waiting for a response.

Fran had seen a lot that day. None of it had prepared her for the scene that confronted her.

Mirrored make-up stations lined the walls on the left and right. Straight ahead of her, at the back of the spacious room, there was a seating area with a small sofa and two chairs. A creamy-skinned redhead sprawled on the sofa, with her head thrown back against the cushions and her legs spread wide. A slender woman knelt between those splayed thighs, face buried in the first woman’s cunt. Shiny black hair cascaded down her spine to graze the dimples at the top of her surprisingly full ass. Her right hand stretched upward to play with the redhead’s ample breasts. Her left hand was hidden. The woman’s rhythmic motions suggested where that hand might be found.

A third girl, a plump blonde, lay on her back on the carpet with her head near the kneeling girl’s ass. With the fingers of one hand she probed the shadowy crevice between the brunette’s buttocks, while she delved into her own snatch with the other.

Sighs and moans filled the room, along with a strong scent of pussy. The women squirmed, bucking and grinding against one another. Francesca’s clit swelled and throbbed, while wetness trickled down her already slick inner thighs. She cupped her palm over her pubis, rubbing hard. She simply couldn’t stop herself.

A pre-orgasmic spike of pleasure shimmered through her. Eyes glued to the naked women writhing just a few feet from her, she squeezed and stroked herself through her dress and her thong. It was not enough.

She sank to her knees, crumpled her chiffon skirt to her waist, and thrust her whole hand under the elastic of her brief panties. Oh, better, much better, to feel bare skin on her slick folds! With her thumb on her clit and three fingers deep in her hole, she climbed quickly. The girls entwined on the sofa seemed to follow her up the path to climax.

The redhead arched her back with a wild cry and ground herself into the brunette’s face. Grabbing handfuls of silky hair, she pulled the other girl deeper. Blondie frigged herself so violently it seemed she might tear herself open. Meanwhile she had three fingers embedded in the brunette’s asshole.

That was what pushed Francesca over the edge—the sight of those plump digits stretching the tight ring of muscle guarding the other girl’s anus, along with the thought of how that violation might feel. Did Jake really want her that way? Her cunt muscles clenched around her fingers and liquid gushed over her hand. Pleasure surged through her, racing through her limbs and leaving her weak.

The blonde and the brunette scream in unison as they simultaneously reached their peaks. She collapsed on the carpet, limp but still tingling with arousal.

Ahem.”

Francesca opened her eyes. Laura and Chantal were staring at her in shock. Linda stood next to them with her arms akimbo, a tolerant smile lighting her face.

JeanetteLilyKatieif I could interrupt you for a momentThese young ladies are here for Amateur Night.

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