The Allure of Extramural Lust

Welcome to August Al Fresco, our huge readers event celebrating sex and love in the great outdoors. Our fearless leader Victoria Blisse has rounded up some of the hottest authors around to share their visions of extramural lust, and we're giving away some amazing prizes (see below).

What is it about the outdoors that stirs the libido? Is it the sense of freedom from constraints? No clothing, no inhibitions. The breeze whispering over your bare skin. Sunlight baking your back as your straddle your lover. The moon washing your twined bodies in silvery radiance. Civilization often cuts us off from our animal nature, but making love outdoors restores the connection.

I recall a special night on the slopes of Mount Shasta in northern California, lying with my lover, open to the sky and to one another. Nothing separated us from earth except our sleeping bag. Every sensation was intensified, as if nature reflected and amplified our passion.

Or is it exhibitionism that gives outdoor sex its special kick? Depending on circumstances, getting amorous al fresco can involve a significant risk of discovery. Are you far enough from the path to escape the notice of the other hikers? Is anyone watching as he peels down your panties and buries his face in your fur?

I'll never forget kneeling in front of my lover on the ramparts of a sixteenth century fort to suck his cock. Another set of museum visitors could have appeared at any time. That just made our lust burn hotter.

Urgency can be another factor. Outdoor encounters often occur because we simply just can't wait to get inside, away from prying eyes. Desire cannot be deferred. One of the most exciting erotic encounters in my life took place in the Colorado desert. We were driving cross country, and would reach our destination in an hour or two. That just wasn't soon enough. He pulled off the road and took me there in the sand, amidst the scrub and the cactus, fierce as the sun battering our half-dressed bodies. I didn't worry about scorpions or snakes until afterward. At the time, he was my only reality.

I've written quite a few outdoor sex scenes, so it was a bit hard for me to decide which one to share with you here. The snippet below is from my most recent release, Challenge to Him, one of the stories in the Tied to the Billionaire anthology, which goes to general release today. On the other hand, I was very tempted to use my paranormal Hot Spell instead, which takes place almost exclusively outdoors (since it is about the love between an Earth Elemental and a Fire Elemental). So I've decided to give away a copy of Hot Spell to one commenter on this post – on top of the Smut Al Fresco grand prizes.

Leave a comment on this post (with your email, please!) and you will be entered to win:

An ebook copy of Hot Spell

Plus 

A Kindle and £50 worth of Total-E-Bound ebooks.

Or 

£50 worth of Xcite ebooks

And be sure to check out all the August Alfresco posts at http://smutalfresco.co.ukand comment on each one to have more chances to win.

All terms and conditions are available at smutalfresco.co.uk and the winners will be announced on the 1^st September at the website. (I'll announce the winner of my ebook here.)

All the wealth in the world can’t buy willing surrender.

Andrew MacIntyre, heir to a vast empire of railroads, mines and mills, is the second or third richest man in America, and by far the most eligible bachelor among the society folk summering in Newport, Rhode Island. His mother has filled their opulent mansion with marriageable daughters of bankers and industrialists, but Andrew knows none of these callow young women can satisfy his perverse sexual needs. No respectable girl would ever consent to being bound and beaten, to serving and obeying him the way he craves. His money gives him the freedom to purchase anything except his heart’s desire—a submissive partner to share his life.

Independent, progressive and well-educated, labour activist Olivia Alcott has dedicated herself to improving the lot of the workers who toil in the factories that have made Andrew and his class so wealthy. The strike she organises triggers a confrontation between her and the handsome billionaire. Although their disparate backgrounds and values make them natural foes, something stronger draws them to one another—an intuitive recognition of complementary fantasies. Andrew offers Olivia a bargain—better working conditions for the mill staff, in return for a weekend of her unquestioning obedience. Olivia will help him deflect the attentions of the potential mates assembled by his mother, as well as providing more intimate services. Given Olivia’s origins, a more enduring relationship appears impossible—but Andrew is not the sort to give up something he wants.

Get your copy today!

Total-E-Bound
http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?P_ID=2243  

All Romance Ebooks
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-tiedtothebillionaire-1268589-147.html

Amazon.com
http://www.amazon.com/Tied-to-the-Billionaire-ebook/dp/B00ELMQMDM/

Amazon UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tied-to-the-Billionaire-ebook/dp/B00ELMQMDM/
 

Excerpt

“Olivia! There you are! I was afraid you were gone…”

He came up behind her, encircling her waist and pulling her body against his. All her resolutions crumbled.

“I’m so very sorry to have left you on your own in that nest of vipers.” Andrew nuzzled her neck, then tugged with his teeth at her diamond eardrop. A delicious thrill skittered down her spine.

“No matter. Everyone was perfectly civil. In any case, I completely understand. You’re the host—you’re required take care of all your guests.” Olivia marvelled at the calm in her voice, even as he cupped her breasts through her finery and thumbed her nipples.

“You’re the only guest who interests me. I don’t care a fig for the rest of them.”

He turned her around, pressing her buttocks against the rail, and stroked her cheek. “Olivia—” It was too dark for her to read his expression, but his voice held an uncharacteristic note of uncertainty. His lips found hers, in a soft, tentative kiss that ended too soon and made her ache for more.

She searched his face in the gloom. “Yes? What can I do for you, sir?”

His whole body stiffened at the title, as though electricity coursed through him. At the same time, the act of voicing her surrender melted the last remnants of her anger.

He tightened his grip on her bare upper arms—she’d have bruises tomorrow—and released a low chuckle, full of lust and menace. Wet heat bloomed between Olivia’s thighs.

“You’re still willing to serve me, then?” His fingers were at her throat now, testing her pulse before sliding down to trace her collarbone.

“Of course, sir.” His touch kindled almost unbearable arousal. She wanted to sink to her knees, to kiss his feet, to breathe his scent and rub her cheek against the glorious hardness at his crotch. “I am yours to command.”

“Ah, that’s my slut talking. Come here then, girl.” He hustled her back towards the entry to the pavilion. The building resembled a normal gazebo, but dragons perched on the tiled, upswept eaves and were carved into the red lacquered pillars supporting it. He arranged her between the gateposts, facing the great house, which glowed like a Chinese lantern. “Raise your arms and put your palms against the posts. Yes, that’s right. Don’t move. Now, how to bind you…”

Olivia followed his instructions, eager for whatever he had planned. If someone had looked from one of Wavecrest’s many windows towards the sea, they might have detected some motion at the tea house, but darkness and distance would hide the details. She found herself wishing that the moon would rise, and was horrified by her own depravity.

Andrew stood before her, pondering the situation. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Energy fairly crackled through his powerful frame.

“I know!” He seized one of the ribbons that draped her skirt and yanked.

“Andrew, no! You’ll ruin it!”

“I paid for it. It’s mine to ruin—just like you.”

She shivered at the thought.

The satin resisted his considerable strength. Pulling a penknife from his tuxedo pocket—to Olivia’s surprise—he sawed at the ribbon until it gave way. “T’will be strong at least.” He wrapped the strip of fabric around her wrist several times, then tied the other end to the post. The satin caressed her skin, but held her tight against the pillar. “Now for the other…”

In a trice he had her suspended between the gateposts, helpless to resist whatever came next. “Now, to make you more accessible…” He slashed again and again at the elegant gown, tearing through overskirt, underskirt and petticoats. A sea breeze stirred the shredded silk, tickling her bare thighs. Moisture trickled from her cleft. She strained against her bonds, wanting nothing more than to touch him, but with an evil giggle, he stepped out of range.

“Ah, sweet, you do look wicked! What would your Russian think, hey?” He leant forward to pinch her nipple, triggering a shock of pleasure, but backed away before she could make contact. “Did your precious poet ever bind you outdoors, in full view of polite society?”

“No, sir…” Dmitri had confined their deviant games to the garret they’d shared. She’d sometimes wished otherwise.

“Ah—a first then! And do you like being exposed, Miss Alcott? Does it arouse you?” He still wouldn’t come closer. Olivia caught a whiff of her own ocean aroma. Her pussy clenched on emptiness.

“You know it does, sir.” Heat climbed into her cheeks. Heat pulsed in her core.

“Yes, yes, I do know. I know you, Olivia. I know what you need.”

****

Don't forget to leave a comment! And please include your email address so I can find you if you're my winner!

News Flash!!  To celebrate the general release of Tied to the Billionaire, Total-E-Bound is discounting all BDSM ebooks by 25%. What a great opportunity to load up your e-reader with a bunch of spicy D/s to feed your fantasies!

Get Ready to Meet the Billionaires!

Our super Meet the Billiionaires blog hop starts tomorrow, August 16th - which is also the day our anthology Tied to the Billionaire becomes available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and other online bookstores. What does it take to marry a billionaire? Check out these six hot stories from Amy Armstrong, Sam Crescent, Tanith Davenport, Cheryl Dragon, Willa Edwards, and yours truly!

All our heroes are wealthy, powerful and deliciously dominant - but they're very distinct individuals. Over the next week, you'll have the opportunity to get to know then through exclusive interviews at each of our blogs. We invite you to read, comment (and drool...!) One lucky person who comments will win a $50 bookstore gift certificate. Another will get a six-pack of ebooks by the anthology authors. We'll draw the winners on the 24th of August, so you can take your time getting to know our dreamy Doms.

Here's the schedule for the tour. Remember, the more you comment, the greater your chances to win!

Amy Armstrong - Friday August 16th
http://amysscribblings.blogspot.com/2013/08/an-interview-with-charles-hunt.html

Sam Crescent - Friday August 16th
http://samcrescent.wordpress.com/2013/08/14/meet-the-billionaires-simon-allen/

Tanith Davenport - Friday August 16th
http://tanithdavenport.com/?p=726

Cheryl Dragon - Friday August 16th
http://cheryldragon.blogspot.com/2013/08/tied-to-billionairemeet-jason-abbot.html 
 
Willa Edwards - Friday August 16th

http://www.willaedwards.com/2/post/2013/08/meet-the-billionaires-blog-hop.html

Lisabet Sarai - Sunday August 18th
http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2013/08/meet-billionaires-andrew-macintyre.html

Book Brewing 101

By Liz Crowe (Guest Blogger)

There is a “regulation” in Germany—the Reinheitsgebot—that states:

Beer is made up 4 ingredients, and 4 ingredients ONLY:

Water—Barley—Hops—Yeast

The Germans invented the lager style of beer, using yeasts they discovered, the create a different sort of beer than had been brewed before. Ale beer was truly an ancient form of sustenance, had been around since Egyptian times and was drunk in leiu of water on many continents.

Since the advent of the “American craft beer movement” in the late ‘90s, that regulation has been thrown out the window in the quest for unique flavors and a sort of one-up-manship among the (now) thousands of brewers seeking an audience of drinkers. Everything from corriandor and orange peels, hot peppers, coffee, and chocolate to cherries, grapes, pumpkin and ginger are now added to a host of “regulation beers” (water/malt/hops/yeast) by breweries large and small. 
 

My favorite example of going off the rez with this is the Peanut Butter and Jelly Beer brewed right here in Michigan at Short’s Brewing near Traverse City.

It’s not a bad thing to add these “adjuncts” (beer jargon for “anything not water/barley/hops/yeast). Some of the create unique, well-rounded and interesting beer drinking experiences. Others are gross but fun to contemplate.

I own a craft brewery, work with brewers and beer drinkers every day. I’ve come to value the process of taking “pure beer” and rounding it out in a cool way with well-balanced and considered ingredients seeking alternatives for the many folks who pass through my Tap Room doors. It’s pretty telling that our best sellers are beers with no adjuncts—just a well blended mix of water, barley, hops and yeast.

But I need a segue to my life as author so….

I’ve also written a few books. And, since I have a degree in English Lit, I’ve read a fair few as well. There is a school of thought in this business that there are only seven or so basic plots: overcoming the monster; rags to riches; the quest; voyage and return; comedy; tragedy; rebirth. If you have some time to ponder such things, you will realize that from the Bible, through Greek plays, Shakespeare and today you can apply one or more of these to most works of literature, including popular fiction.

The fact that there are so many great books to choose from is a testament to the fact that authors take these “basics” and add their own spices, pumpkins, grapes and hot peppers to them to create a huge range of options for readers to consider. My latest release, MAN ON, is the first book in a new series set in the world of professional soccer (my first “adjunct” and a unique one as there are not a ton of these around). In it, you meet two of the players for the original Black Jack Gentlemen fictional Detroit-based expansion soccer team (in a fictional expansion pro soccer league). This is not a league of “starter-outers” or a farm team for the more established Major League Soccer teams. These are men of all ranges of experience from literally all over the world who’ve been convinced, cajoled and paid well to come and form a legit new team that can take on teams of equal or better caliber.

My second “adjunct” to this story: these men are bi-sexual. One of them, Parker Rollings, is a young man just out of college who is struggling with his sexual identity. The other, Nicco Garza is an older player from Spain who lost his super-star status when his ex-wife “outed” him.

So you have the set up for “overcoming the monster” (acceptance of yourself as a homosexual and a pro athlete—not an easy task), “the quest” (trying to create a viable new soccer team, getting a bunch of men who’ve never played together to form a cohesive group) and even “rebirth” (when Parker accepts himself as a bi-sexual man in love with another man who happens to be a teammate).

There could be tragedy of course. These men have both worked so very hard to achieve success as athletes. It is well known that the general public does not accept homosexual men on their “favorite teams” easily. So it could be that they find each other, then make a very hard decision to reject their potential private happiness in order to further the public success of their team.

Taking basic plots and adding the adjuncts of setting, characters, conflicts and resolution truly does resemble the crafting of a great beer. We all hope for more drinkers and readers thanks to our efforts. And, as with craft beer, there is nothing wrong with taking the basics of a plot and adding as many unique additions as possible to craft something interesting—or something fun (or even gross). Just remember, get it edited! We never serve a beer without a lot of sampling and tasting through the process. Yeah, that’s the fun bit.

Cheers!

A city and a sport with something to prove—Meet the men who take that challenge.

The Black Jack Gentlemen—Detroit’s expansion soccer team.

They play hard. And live harder.

The Black Jack Gentlemen

The newest series by Liz Crowe

Book 1: Man On (August 2013)

Book 2: Red Card (August 2013)

Book 3: Shut Out (September 2013)

And Coming Soon…

Book 4: Set Piece

Book 5: Hat Trick

Man On (Black Jack Gentlemen: Book One)

Bad boy of European football, Nicolas Garza is about to hit American shores with a vengeance. Signed by the Detroit Black Jack Gentlemen as lynch pin for their expansion club, Nicco only half believes he’s making the right move. But with a past full of ghosts and rotten behavior chasing him from his homeland, he has no real choice.

Parker Rollings is a college soccer superstar, but his parents’ plans for their only son do not include professional athletics. When the Black Jacks approach him to finalize their roster, Parker leaps at the chance to keep playing, leaving behind medical school, stability and his first and only college sweetheart.

Nicco and Parker face off as bitter rivals for a coveted starting spot at midfield and are forced to channel their negative energy into something positive for the sake of the group—and themselves.

All eyes are on the fledgling team in its debut season. It’s crucial that the Black Jacks prove all the doubters wrong. They must make a good showing in the league and with new fans. But player drama, club dynamics, and misplaced priorities may tear it apart before it even begins.

Available now!

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Excerpt

His fingertips grazed a small card in his pocket making him wince at the memory of his first encounter with the team psychologist. He’d set it up one morning after booting Terry out the door, along with a couple of girls he’d convinced to come by for some playtime. His head had been pounding, not so much from a hangover but shame.

When he had flipped through his expensive-looking orientation packet the words “team psychologist” had leapt out at him as if connected to a hand that gripped him by the short hairs. Not a new thing, all teams had one. But, sick of his bizarre need for constant physical contact—for fucking, he’d corrected, tired of even glossing over it in his own stupid head—he had been desperate for someone to simply listen. So, he made the call. And in the meantime, had enjoyed the workouts with the trainers, the few times he’d scrimmaged around with some of the other players. They’d all been contracted but not obligated to do anything for a month but “acclimate to their new surroundings.”

Part of that acclimation came with the requisite social networking and attendance at a some high visibility fundraisers—which is where Nicco had hooked up with Terrance who’d been attending as personal assistant to some politician. He’d also been encouraged to look around for a place to live with the assistance of an eager young real estate agent, an adorable, sexy, woman whose name he had forgotten within minutes of banging her brains out in an empty mini-mansion. Par for his course, really. But behavior that made him angrier than ever.

His first session with the psychologist, an earnest, nerdy-looking guy with square glasses and a cleft chin, had been brutal. But Nicco had deflected, and to his credit, the shrink had let him front, and show off like a dumb ass for a full hour.

Then, just as he was getting up to leave, convinced the whole thing had been a total waste, the guy looked up at him, pinning him with eyes so sharp and clear they made Nicco gasp in spite of himself. “Nicco,” he’d said. “When you’re ready to face up to your addiction, I’m here to listen. I know you have a problem with sex. You know you have a problem with sex. I’m glad you made this appointment. Next time, let’s make it more useful, shall we? And for your information, I did not support the concept of putting you out there as poster boy for gay rights or gay athletes.”

The man had removed his glasses, staring Nicco down as if he could see into his very soul. “I am gay. I have been with the same partner, a man I love dearly for six years. I understand, on a certain level, what you’re dealing with. So,” he’d put the glasses back on and glanced down at his tablet computer. “When will I see you next?”

Now, Nicco pulled the card from his pocket and stared at the therapist’s name and phone number. Then ripped it into small pieces as the rest of the new team filed into the room. He noted two German players he’d had run-ins with in World Cup play, a South African player who must have cost the casino owners a pretty penny, at least three Brits, a Welsh guy or maybe Irish, and two South Americans whose dark, intense good looks made him shiver with memory.

A handful of fresh-faced young Americans interspersed in the group made him feel old. And that pissed him off. What was Inez thinking anyway? There were two per position in the room, two strong players for each spot—except his. He sipped his water bottle and glared at the Germans. Nervous tension gnawed at his gut but he kept his face calm. Finally when their temporary coach showed up and flipped the blinds closed, he relaxed.

So everyone in the room has to fight for their spot except me? That works. He dropped his feet to the floor at Rafe’s pointed glance and propped his elbows on the table prepared to ignore the forthcoming pep talk.

He’d already made plans for the night and wanted to rest up before hand. This goofy welcome pep talk would be as good a time as any. Letting his thoughts wander to the nightclub catering to gay men and promising full discretion, he made himself stop obsessing over the failed therapy session.

The door clicked open and all eyes landed on the tall, blond man who walked in, backpack on his shoulder, dressed to play. Nicco’s scalp tingled at the sight of him—strong torso, long legs, firm jaw covered with several days’ worth of fuzz. Good Christ but he was a perfect specimen. Nicco kept his casual stance but startled when the kid’s bright blue eyes and huge white smile landed on him.

He resisted the urge to smile back. Something about the man made Nicco distinctly uncomfortable but horny at the same time. He suddenly wished he’d held onto the shrink’s business card.

“And Parker will be working with you, Nicco.”

Nicco sat up, knocking his water to the floor as Rafe’s words got his immediate attention. What the fuck? He stared at the polite hand the kid stuck in his face then over at Rafe. His throat closed up between the proximity of the impossibly handsome man and realization of the fact that the vision of masculine perfection he’d lusted after for the last few seconds wanted to take his spot on the field.

Oh hell no. He leaned back again and ignored his brain that clamored for him to be nice, to take the kid’s hand. To smile and act like an adult.

Instead, he smirked, ignored him, and turned to face their coach as if suddenly fascinated by what the guy had to say. Parker stood a minute, and Nicco watched his face turn red before he sat in the one empty chair nearest the door.

Rafe passed out new phones, instructed them that they were obliged to “tweet” and “post profile updates” on Facebook at least three times a day. All shit that Nicco already knew. Rafe’s hot young lady assistant issued key cards to the ones who’d just arrived, including the kid Nicco studiously ignored but whose very presence was making the front of his jeans uncomfortable.

He shifted in his seat, trying to get control of himself, a bizarre combination of anger and lust spinning around his brain. The room rose, and Nicco joined them making their way out into the hallway.

A gaggle of kids and parents awaited them, and the team spent about an hour signing soccer balls, slips of paper, jerseys, getting photos for camera phones. Nicco joined in to prove his ability to schmooze like a pro. At one point he caught sight of his new young coach with his arm around a tall, attractive, pregnant woman with coal black hair. Rafe caught his eye and beckoned him over.

“Nicolas Garza, this is Maureen, my wife and her son, Adam.” A dark-skinned teenager next to the stunning woman stuck out a hand. Nicco took it, noting the kid’s own club kit and backpack. He took Maureen’s hand, kissed it, and eyeballed Rafe.

“Well done, young Rafe. What a vision. How did a loser like yourself rate such beauty?”

Maureen frowned but her eyes sparkled. “Spare me, Nicco. I’ve heard all about you.”

“I have no doubt of that lovely lady.” He gave a short bow. “But may I also say, congratulations on the coming joy.”

She smiled at him, and he mirrored her liking her already. He valued women who took no shit from him. He winked at Rafe and made his way back into the teeming throng after nodding at the woman’s son who didn’t look that much younger than his mother’s new husband. But when he turned he immediately locked gazes with the blond American usurper and his throat closed up. The man stared at him wide-eyed and innocent, and Nicco had to grip the back of a chair to keep from saying something utterly stupid.

He’d wager his left nut that young Parker had never been with a man, but the sheer sexual energy that poured off him was intoxicating. His fresh, clean good looks spoke of a typical American, upper class upbringing, expensive soccer clubs and college scholarships. Shit that Nicco usually despised and denigrated.

He broke the eye contact and set his jaw. The kid had another think coming if he honestly believed he’d be taking Nicolas Garza’s place on the team. Pure and simple, no matter how fevered his sudden fantasy over popping the kid’s cherry. He ran a hand down his face and swallowed hard. Things had certainly gotten complicated and then some. But he knew that he had a focus now—keeping his starting spot ahead of the delectable Parker.

About Liz

Microbrewery owner, best-selling author, beer blogger and journalist, mom of three, and soccer fan, Liz lives in the great Midwest, in a major college town. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse. While working as a successful Realtor, Liz made the leap into writing novels about the same time she agreed to take on marketing and sales for the Wolverine State Brewing Company.

Most days find her sweating inventory and sales figures for the brewery, unless she’s writing, editing or sweating promotional efforts for her latest publications.

Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”). More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction,” while remaining very much “real life.”

With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and many times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate, and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.

If you are in the Ann Arbor area, be sure and stop into the Wolverine State Brewing Co. Tap Room—but don’t ask her for anything “like” a Bud Light, or risk serious injury.

www.lizcrowe.com

www.brewingpasssion.com

www.a2beerwench.com

www.facebook.com/lizcroweauthor

www.twitter.com/beerwencha2

www.facebook.com/groups/romanceforreallife

Sneak Peek: From the Ashes by Daisy Harris

[My sneak peek today is from Daisy Harris' gay erotic romance, From the Ashes. This is part of Daisy's blog tour. See the end of the post for information about the prizes! ~ Lisabet]

Blurb

When an accident burns down Jesse’s apartment, he’s left broke and homeless, with a giant dog and a college schedule he can’t afford to maintain. And no family who’s willing to take him in.

Lucky for him, a sexy fireman offers him a place to stay. The drawback? The fireman’s big Latino family lives next door, and they don’t know their son is gay.

Tomas’s parents made their way in America with hard work and by accepting help when it was offered, so he won’t let Jesse drop out of school just so he can afford a place to live. Besides, Jesse’s the perfect roommate—funny, sweet and breathtakingly cute. He climbs into Tomas’s bed and tugs at his heart. Until Jesse starts pushing for more.

Their passion enflames their bodies but threatens to crush Tomas’s family. Tomas is willing to fight for Jesse, but after losing everything, Jesse isn’t sure he can bear to risk his one remaining possession—his heart.

Warning: Contains an angry older brother, judgmental best friends, a slobbering bull mastiff, and enough red-hot gay loving to make a porn star blush.

-->

Excerpt

Whimpering, Char tugged on the leash. She backed up and barked to shoo the other dogs away. But then Sushi went around to sniff her ass, and Char took the opportunity to return the favor. Suddenly, something was decided between them, and they were sniffing all over each other, play fighting.

It wasn’t much different than the couple clubs Jesse had been to, except that men tended to wait until they were in private to lick one another’s butts.

Only Chester hung back, batting with his paws. He seemed to want to get in a couple sniffs but was thwarted by the more aggressive Sushi. With his gray muzzle, he had the air of an old dog, one not up to wrestling with a hundred- pound mastiff.

“I think I can let her go.” Tomas struggled to get the collar off Chardonnay’s neck and set her free.

Fur flew everywhere as the two dogs wrestled and grabbed and yelped and growled, with Chester barking his loudest in the background. Jesse stepped forward to stop them from hurting one another, but Tomas pushed him out of the way.

“They’ll figure it out,” he said, close to Jesse’s ear. The way he crowded him toward the door was exactly what Jesse liked. Jesse didn’t have much experience—just that month and a half with Bobby, and a few hookups since he’d moved to Seattle—but a guy advancing on him, pushing him into a wall or onto a bed... Man, the rough-and-ready types really turned his knob.

“Um, yeah.” He’d forgotten what he and Tomas were discussing.

A loud yelp sounded from the yard. “Aren’t you worried one of them’ll get hurt?”

Tomas gave Jesse a smile so hot it could have melted paint off the walls. “Nah. Sushi and Chester were strays. They’ve toughed it out before.”

About Daisy

Birkenstock-wearing glamour girl and mother of two by immaculate conception, Daisy Harris still isn't sure if she writes erotica. Her romances start out innocently enough. However, her characters behave like complete sluts. Much to Miss Harris's dismay the sex tends to get completely out of hand.

She writes about fantastical creatures and about young men getting their freak on, and she's never missed an episode of The Walking Dead.

Want to learn more about new releases, general news and my latest inappropriate boy band crush? Sign up for my newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/b96xX

Find me on twitter at: https://twitter.com/thedaisyharris

Like me on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Daisy-Harris/185042351535537

My filthy Tumblr feed can be found at: http://www.tumblr.com/blog/holsumcollege

Amazon buy link: http://www.amazon.com/From-Ashes-Fire-Rain-ebook/dp/B00C4U6MOC

Samhain buy link: http://store.samhainpublishing.com/from-ashes-p-72937.html

Barnes and Noble buy link:http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/from-the-ashes-daisy-harris/1115084890?ean=9781619217980

====================

Daisy is giving a $20 Starbucks gift card to one person who comments. (Every author and reader needs coffee, right?) You'll find all the stops on her tour here:

 http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2013/07/virtual-super-book-blast-from-ashes-by.html

Last Keeper’s Daughter by Rebecca Trogner

[I've got a sneak peek for you today at Rebecca Trogner's paranormal romance, Last Keeper's Daughter. Rebecca's giving away a $50 gift certificate to one lucky person who comments during her tour, so read on , and don't forget to leave a comment! ~ Lisabet]
 

Blurb

Born into old money, Lily Ayres lives at Waverly, her family’s estate situated at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains in Paris, Virginia. She is a strange, small, almost mute, young woman who has no idea that her father has given her to the Vampire King Krieger. Walter Ayres is the King’s Keeper and part of a secret society of historians who unearth, preserve, and attempt to understand relics of long forgotten civilizations.

Lily has never felt comfortable in the human world, but after she suspiciously falls down a flight of stone steps, and is healed and claimed by Krieger, she realizes there is another world. In this Other Realm she feels a sense of belonging, and begins to untwine the mysterious event which left her mentally and psychologically damaged. When Walter disappears in England, Lily works with human and supernatural beings to uncover his whereabouts. With each new discovery, she is pulled deeper into the vortex of magic, intrigue, and dark desires that permeates the supernatural world. The revelations revealed unfold a story of deception and betrayal that threaten to tear the thin veil between the supernatural and human world asunder.

Excerpt

“Sire.” Merlin bowed low. “I took the liberty of starting this evening’s refreshments flowing.”

Krieger had showered and changed before arriving in the main hall to receive his subjects. He was a vampire who liked the clothes of this century and wore a silk shirt with black slacks. His one concession to his time was the sword strapped to his back, a gladius, which had served him well these many centuries. It wasn’t that he felt he’d need to use the weapon, but on formal occasion within his court, he liked to remind his subjects that he was their ruler for a reason.

He took the blood drink from Merlin, sipping it slowly while he walked through the cavernous hall. Here and there were Roman marble statues with eyes, hair, flesh, and clothes meticulously painted.

The room stretched out in every direction and appeared to go on indefinitely. This level was for his subjects to revel in the power and wealth of their kingdom, much like the great cathedrals of old.

Before leaving his chambers, he’d received a communiqué from the Elder. He and his entourage would arrive at dawn. The Elder rarely traveled. To have him come here, well, it did not bode well.

“Merlin, prepare accommodations for the Elder.”

“Of course,” Merlin said without emotion.

“Did you foresee this?”

“The Elder won’t stay long.”

Krieger stopped.

“And your brother arrives soon,” Merlin added.

“Henry, here?”

Merlin ran his hand down the ornate robe he wore for ceremonial occasions. “Strange, his arrival at such a time.”

“We live in strange times.”

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About Rebecca

Rebecca Trogner lives in the Shenandoah Valley region of Virginia, and frequently crosses the Blue Ridge Mountains that were the inspiration for Krieger’s home. She always dreamed of being a writer, but got sidetracked by the day-to-day adventures of life. With the encouragement of her family, she has finished her first novel and is currently writing the next book in The Last Keeper’s Daughter series. Rebecca lives with her husband and stepson, and a rescue dog named Giblet. To find out more about the author visit www.rebeccatrogner.com.

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17252265-the-last-keeper-s-daughter

Twitter: @RTrogner

Website: www.Rebeccatrogner.com

Blog: http://blog.rebeccatrogner.com

Sunday Snog #90: Oral Antics from Exposure

According to Victoria Blisse, the founder of the Sunday Snog tradition, snogs don't have to be mouth to mouth kisses. So today I have a very intense bit of alternative orality for you, from my erotic thriller Exposure. 

After you've read my snog, hop on over to Snog Central for more sexy kisses! 

Oh, and while I have your attention - Exposure and every other Books We Love title is on sale at Amazon from now until the end of August for $2.99.

 

Sex, blood and betrayal: it's all in a day's work

Stella is just minding her own business and having a bit of fun, working as an exotic dancer at the Peacock Lounge. Through no fault of her own, she witnesses a double murder and gets pulled into a shady dance of deceit with political bigwigs, mob bosses, dirty cops and scheming widows. Now she's everyone's target; her only chance is to sift through the lies and expose the truth.

 

He looks up at me, a blissful smile on his face. “I’ve been wanting to do this for nearly fifteen years, Stella. Ever since we met in ninth grade.” He pinches me, hard, and I moan in agonized ecstasy. “Do you know how many wet dreams I had, fantasizing about your incredible tits? I used to picture myself straddling you, with my cock stuffed between them, rubbing back and forth until I sprayed my jizz all over them. It never took long; half a dozen strokes was enough when your tits were involved.” 
 

“Jimmy...”

“Or sometimes, you’d do it for me. You spread yourself over my face so that I could eat you. Meanwhile, you’d be down in my groin, sucking me while you smothered my cock in your breasts. I always like to imagine the come dripping from your lips down your chest, gathering in little drops on your nipples.”

“PLEASE, Jimmy! You’re driving me crazy!” Was he trying to be cruel, or was he just lost in adolescent memories? “You want to eat me? Don’t talk about it, do it! I’m begging you.”

Jimmy seems to wake from a kind of dream. “What? God—I’m sorry, Stella. I didn’t mean to neglect you.” He leans over and kisses me. I arch my back, trying to rub my clit against his body. “I’d love to eat you, sweetie. My lifelong ambition.”

He bends over, and with gentle fingers separates my lower lips. Then he blows warm air on the hot, damp flesh. I convulse, my flesh twitching. Next he touches the tip of his tongue to my rudely jutting clit. The sensation’s incredible, but it’s not enough. It’s too tentative, too delicate.

“Jimmy, don’t tease me anymore!” I beg. “I need you.” I grab his head in both hands and try to force his mouth down on my cunt. But he’s strong. I can’t budge him. Gently he untangles my fingers from his hair and places my hands back on the couch. “Let me,” he says.

Then he bends to my sex and swallows me whole. He fastens his mouth on my cunt like there’s a vacuum seal. Like I’m a fruit and he’s sucking out my pulp. Like he truly wants to consume me. His lips capture my labia. His tongue probes my folds. His teeth graze my aching clit, sending bolts of pleasure arching up my spine. The suction distorts and displaces my swollen flesh, pulling me along toward my climax.

I couldn’t resist even if I wanted to. I thrash and scream, clamping my thighs around his head. Everything is dark, except for the stars whirling around my head. His saliva flows in streams down my thighs, mingled with my own juices. I am drowned, flooded, washed away.

The stars streak through the dark. Lightning strikes my sex and sizzles through me, burning everything in its path. I hear myself scream, feel my body shaking in some kind of fit. I am rising, floating, freed by the convulsions racking my flesh.

Up To Some New Tricks

By EM Lynley (Guest Blogger)

Trying something completely different can be frightening—but it can be fun, too, depending on how you look at it. Going to restaurant for new cuisine you’ve never had, or sky-diving or traveling to a new place. Once we get over any initial concerns, we usually find it’s fun and worth the risk, however small.

For writers, trying something outside of our regular genres can be just as frightening as making a leap out of a plane at 10,000 feet. And if we’re lucky, it’s fun and we don’t end up with a ripcord that’s not working.

I tried a few new things over the years, writing in genres that I don’t feel very comfortable in, even if I enjoy reading them. I wrote a paranormal novella, a sci-fi novella and a fantasy/paranormal. One thing I realized was that when I didn’t put any constraints or expectations on myself, the projects were all fun and offered me a chance to try something completely different. I told myself that no matter how the story came out, it wouldn’t be a failure, because it was all just for fun.

That attitude made all the difference. When I write action/mystery/suspense, my readers have certain expectations, especially in the series books. I feel a constant pressure to give them a story they’ll love. With these little personal projects, I just wanted a story I would love.

And that’s how A Lesser Evil came to be. I had an idea for a character who sells his soul to a demon to get his sight back, because his other alternative is suicide. For this man, a painter who was blinded, life can’t get any worse. But once he regains his sight, he learns there is something else he wants and he might have to give something up to obtain it. I also got to play with the concepts of good and evil, right and wrong and failing to meet a lover’s expectations. Some of the concepts are in my other work, but not the focus of the story, as with this story of Rowan McBride, a demon and his guardian angel, all of whose lives and destinies become intertwined, until their very lives depend upon each other.

I loved the freedom of paranormal fantasy, of making up a world as I go along, but infusing the characters with some familiar characteristics along with their supernatural ones.

Best of all, once it was finished, Total-E-Bound decided they liked my little experiment enough to publish it. I hope you’ll check it out and if you love stories about angels, demons, tormented artists, redefining good and evil and some hot demon sex, this one is right up your alley.

Available from Total-E-Bound (http://bit.ly/teb-le), Amazon (http://bit.ly/amz-le), All Romance (http://bit.ly/are-le), and other book distributors

Please leave a comment with something new you’ve tried recently, and how did that go?

Here’s more about A Lesser Evil and an excerpt:

When painter Rowan McCall makes a deal with a demon, his guardian angel's arrival may do more harm than good.

Rowan McCall is about to start a new phase in his painting career with a one-man show at a prestigious San Francisco art gallery. His moment of triumph is snatched away and Rowan’s life changes forever. Left alone and suicidal, Rowan is determined to do anything to get his life back on track. He strikes a deal with an angel who’s all too willing to help him. Then Rowan discovers Tur’el is anything but an angel—he’s a demon. But he’s just desperate enough to go ahead with the bargain.

Zethan,Rowan’s guardian angel, arrives too late. In order to save Rowan’s soul, Zethan makes a deal of his own with Tur’el. With his sight restored and possessed by Tur’el, Rowan searches for Zethan on Earth.

Rowan is obsessed with capturing Zethan’s angelic beauty on canvas. When he meets a mortal who embodies the same beauty, Tur’el and Rowan are overjoyed. But finding Zethan again may prove deadly for all of them.

Excerpt

Antonio sprawled in the chair, one leg thrown over the arm, leaning back, giving Rowan an excellent view of his impressive proportions. Antonio wasn’t fully aroused, just hard enough to give Rowan an idea of the magnitude of the possibilities. And the sight kept Rowan hard enough to inspire more than his artistic side. Later, he told himself and Laz.

Rowan laid down the first broad strokes of the painting, getting a feel for the new canvas and adjusting the pigments as needed for the special air and humidity here in Venice. He studied Antonio and Antonio studied him back, making for a new experience. Rowan had little experience with live models.

After an hour they took a break for Antonio to stretch his limbs and for Rowan to ease the strain in his neck. He remembered how Marshall used to massage him after long painting sessions and longed for the touch of Antonio’s strong, warm fingers. Too much to ask for just yet. Soon.

When Antonio resumed his position he grew restless almost immediately. “Rowan, this feels unnatural. Uneven, you know?”

“No. What do you mean?”

“Well, you watch me, you study me with your gaze, so intense as if your fingers are touching every inch of my skin.”

“Is that how it feels when I look at you?” Rowan stood up straight and focused his attention on Antonio. “You don’t like this? We can stop for today. Or…” Rowan bit his lip. He forced the words out. “We can stop the project.” No, no, NO! Laz screamed in Rowan’s head.

“That wasn’t what I had in mind.” Antonio’s voice took on a mischievous tone. “I have a better idea.”

“Oh?”

“Perhaps you can disrobe as well. Then I have something to entertain me…” Antonio’s voice lilted with promise.

Rowan stepped away from the canvas a few feet as he considered this. It was a dangerous proposition. He already wanted Antonio more than he could bear and them both being naked would be playing with fire. “Of course.” Laz spoke for Rowan and moved to pull Rowan’s shirt off. He was forced to give in, lest he look like a fool unable to control his own body in front of Antonio. “Let me keep my pants and some dignity.”

“No. No pants.” Antonio’s laughter trilled all the way to Rowan’s core. The heat building there told him this was a huge mistake, but he was powerless. He whipped his belt out of the loops—unnecessarily—and slid his pants and boxers down, letting his aching cock swing free.

“How beautiful you are under all those clothes, Rowan. More than I had hoped or expected.”

A Lesser Evil is available from Total-E-Bound (http://bit.ly/teb-le), Amazon (http://bit.ly/amz-le), All Romance (http://bit.ly/are-le), and other book distributors

EM Lynley, a Rainbow Award winner and EPPIE finalist, has worked in high finance, high tech, and in the wine industry, though she'd rather be writing hot, romantic man-on-man action. She spent 10 years as an economist and financial analyst, including a year as a White House Staff Economist, but only because all the intern positions were filled. Tired of boring herself and others with dry business reports and articles, her creative muse is back and naughtier than ever. She has lived and worked in London, Tokyo and Washington, D.C., but the San Francisco Bay Area is home for now.

She is the author of Sex, Lies & Wedding Bells, the Precious Gems series from Dreamspinner Press, and the Rewriting History series starring a sexy jewel thief, among others.

Visit her online: (http://www.emlynley.com), Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/emlynley) and Twitter: (http://twitter.com/emlynley)