Thursday, November 7, 2019

Can she have Alex and still keep her secrets? #FreeRomance Bedeviled by @MadisonMichael_



Bedeviled Banner
 
About Bedeviled

If you build your love on lies, you better run faster than the truth

Newly appointed Finance Director, Charlotte Roche escaped dangers lurking in Boston by moving to Chicago. A new name, a new beginning - all built on lies. Believing she is safe, Charlotte drops her guard and sets her sights on her ruggedly handsome and wildly sexy running partner, Alexander Gaines. Can she advance their relationship from the track to the bedroom and still maintain her charade? or will Alex's probing questions pierce her carefully rehearsed story?

Alex, with unrevealed secrets of his own, struggles to hold the irresistible Charlotte at arm’s length. But when Charlotte sustains a suspicious injury, Alex seizes the opportunity to cuddle up to the sassy beauty. Does he dare risk his reputation, his fortune, his friends, and his heart by letting her get close?

How can they build a bond with deceit on both sides? With exposure imminent, their freshly forged relationship is in jeopardy and so are their lives. Can their love survive or are they bedeviled?

Join Alex and Charlotte, in this steamy romance, the third in the five-star rated Beguiling Bachelor series. The suspense builds as the characters you’ve met and loved in “Bedazzled” and “Beholden” help tackle the maze of half-truths and cover-ups threatening the lovers.

ASIN: B06WLQL2FT
Genre: Steamy Romantic Suspense


Amazon Buy Link: https://amzn.to/321d24H



Excerpt

Keeping his mind on the topic always took all of Alex’s effort anyway. When Charlotte sat hip-to-hip with him as she had today, he felt the heat of her skin, saw the long length of thigh exposed in front of him, heard her heavy post-run breathing until he was in sensory overload. She smelled so good, not stinky and sweaty like he must. She smelled classy and expensive with all those clean, floral scents. She smelled like a woman he could trust.

More like a woman I want to trust.

Thinking back, Alex recognized that she had been hiding something all along. When he wasn’t lost in a sensual fog, he was able to zero in on where the conversations lagged, when she got testy with his probing or tried to change the subject. It had something to do with her life in Boston before she moved to Chicago and it was something that had been going on for a while. She was practiced at her excuses by the time she used them on him. She was making too many trips back East for ‘Harvard stuff.’ She had met Regan Howe through this same ‘Harvard stuff’ yet Regan went back to her alma mater only once or twice a year, if that.

Oh yeah, Charlotte is definitely up to something and I intend to find out what. I have been patient long enough.

Sitting waiting now for Charlotte to arrive at Starbucks, Alex promised himself that he would get to the bottom of this or walk away.

Since she had declined his offer of a ride, Alex currently sat at a shady outside table enjoying the last of summer, waiting for her to walk over and speculating on her possible secrets. He was planning his subtle interrogation during the few minutes Charlotte would need to make her way across the park,

Stubborn. She should have just accepted the ride.

You driving over or walking?” she had asked him, once they caught their breath.

I have the car if you want a ride?” When she hesitated, he tried tempting her. “I have the new car.”

Alex was the proud owner of a brand new Mercedes AMG. The sleek, luxury sports car suited him despite most people’s image of him as logical, conservative and staid. The need for speed was actually deep in his blood. “You will love it, tight on the curves, fast and quiet. She purrs,” he had bragged.

Charlotte hesitated on his last remark and Alex had been sure she would accept.

The new car, huh?” she sounded intrigued. “I am excited to see it at last, Alex. You have certainly been talking about it long enough.”

I need to walk off this tight hamstring, so I’ll have to pass this time,” she had replied reluctantly. “Meet you there in five.” Of course, Charlotte had been Charlotte, and that included being unpredictable.

Charlotte, leaving Alex standing there, had taken off across the park without a backward glance. Alex stood dumbfounded a moment, watching her slow jog-walk toward the trail across the grassy lawns of Lincoln Park. She was heading directly toward their usual post-run Starbucks and if he didn’t get moving, she would be there first.

Still he stood, willing her to look back and flash him that smile that changed her whole face. She didn’t, of course, and Alex was left standing there, admiring her lithe figure and the smooth bunch and release of her muscles in those tiny running shorts as she moved into the distance. Reminding himself to close his gaping mouth, Alex jogged to the parking lot, trading an extra moment of admiring a beautiful woman for a few short moments admiring his beautiful new car.

Arriving at the coffee shop several minutes before Charlotte, Alex was forced to cool his heels. He spent the time piecing together anything he could think of to uncover Charlotte’s deep, dark, secret. Admittedly, he needed the ten-minute head start away from her to give his overheated blood a little cooling time too. He kept envisioning the two of them in that sweet ride, sitting close with their sweat-slicked bodies. The image had intensified the jolts of.electricity already coursing through his veins from running beside her scantily clothed body.

Too bad she turned me down. One of these days we will be in tight quarters, all alone, and I will make my move. I have resisted too long already.

Since the mention of her tight hamstring, all Alex could think about was massaging her leg, and moving up from there. Did the woman not understand what she was doing to him? After all, he was a healthy red-blooded man. How long was he supposed to watch her round little ass wiggle in front of him, or the glide of muscles in those incredible legs – or OMG – her breasts bob up and down in those little running tops. The woman was killing him. He wanted her so badly he could taste it.

He chided himself to stop thinking of her that way, as he always did when he lusted after her. He would catch himself wanting her and repress the overwhelming sexual response that had plagued him since the beginning. She was so much more than just beautiful and sexy. She was a brilliant woman, funny, witty, complex and delightful. She considered him a running partner, and a friend…

but that body, oh, that body. Stop it!

Alex determined to stay focused on what she might be trying to cover up and got his desire under control. He reviewed the signs – when she changed topics or failed to make eye contact. He carefully dissected her words while he waited for her to arrive. He knew she was being intentionally elusive. Alex resolved again that today would be the day he found out what she was concealing, beginning as soon as she arrived.

Speaking of arriving, Charlotte should have shown up long before now. She would have, unless something had happened. How long had he been sitting, pondering? How much time had passed?

Heart racing like a freight train, Alex ran into the park. Unsure why, he was terrified of what he might find.


About the Author


Madison Michael is an indie publisher, blogger and the author of the Beguiling Bachelor Series as well as the novella Desire & Dessert, from her sizzling B&B Billionaire Bachelor series.

A Chicago native and hopeless romantic, Maddy was raised on Chicago culture, fairy tales, great literature and swashbuckling movies. Maddy employs that history, writing steamy contemporary romance novels set against the sumptuous backdrop of Chicago’s elite society.

After receiving a BA in Journalism from the University of Illinois and an MBA from Loyola University of Chicago, Madison abandoned her writing to find her way in the corporate business world. Daughter of a librarian, it was inevitable that she would return to the world of books.

Maddy writes from high above Chicago where she can stare at its gorgeous skyline or the shores of Lake Michigan surrounded by feline assistants. When she is not writing,, Maddy can be found lost in a book, fighting for the rights of the mentally iil or dining on Chicago’s famous cuisine. Hot dogs and pizza, anyone?

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Wednesday, November 6, 2019

Forbidden Pleasures - #Taboo #Kink #Culture


breasts and banana

taboo (n): A social or religious custom prohibiting or restricting a particular practice or forbidding association with a particular person, place, or thing.

Origin: Late 18th century: from Tongan tabu ‘set apart, forbidden’; introduced into English by Captain Cook.



Every society has forbidden practices, particularly with regard to sex. Incest, bestiality, pederasty and necrophilia are among the most common sexual prohibitions. Many cultures condemn same-sex intimacy, sodomy and extra-marital sex. In some places, even today, any type of physical contact between unmarried males and females will be condemned and punished.

Humans are perverse creatures, though. We delight in breaking the rules. The more serious the taboo, the greater emotional charge associated with its violation. Fear mingles with desire to make the forbidden experience more exciting and intense than sanctioned sexual behavior.

Erotic authors are experts in exploiting taboos. We push our characters to step over the lines of propriety: to fuck strangers in a dark alley; to beg for a spanking; to watch a teenage brother jack off then slip into his room naked. Not every erotic tale depends on the flaunting of taboos, but I suspect that the majority incorporate some aspects of the forbidden, or at least, the officially frowned upon. Nice girls don’t get up on stage and take off their clothes. Proper, masculine husbands don’t get aroused watching their wives get serviced by big-cocked studs. Modern, emancipated women don’t allow themselves to be tied up and whipped by bossy dominants. In the world of erotica (though not in erotic romance), it’s rather unusual to find sex that conforms to social norms.

Some taboos are enforced by law, or by rules made because of fear of the law. In the United States (though not in some other countries), you can write about mother-son, daddy-daughter, or sister-doggy sex, but Amazon and many other outlets won’t publish or distribute your naughty tales. On the other hand, sex between teens (or heaven forbid, pre-teens) is strictly sanctioned. Porn film-makers are required to certify and document the fact that all their performers are over eighteen.

Other restrictions are based on convention. Many readers strongly reject any tale with adulterous themes, despite (or maybe because of) the large amount of cheating that goes on in the real world.

What I find most fascinating, though, is the way taboos shift. Back in Victorian times, a flash of ankle was considered terribly improper. Now tiny bikinis that cover next to nothing are perfectly acceptable on public beaches – and Victorian-style corsets are the height of sexiness!

Two or three decades ago, homoerotic activity fell into the prohibited category. Same-sex stories often focused on first-time scenarios, and included a lot of fear, shame and soul-searching. As societal attitudes have changed and become more tolerant and inclusive, LGBTQ fiction has changed as well. The conflicts tend to revolve around other aspects of the characters and their relationship.

Then there’s kink. The success of Fifty Shades of Grey brought BDSM out of the closet and into the mainstream. Before FSOG, we early practitioners of D/s felt like members of a secret society, brave pioneers, outcasts who broke the rules of vanilla sex and reaped the erotic rewards. Now leather-clad Dommes show up on daytime TV and bondage cuffs are sold in department stores.

Kink was a lot more fun when it was verboten.

On the other hand, I’ve observed a new taboo developing around sex without condoms. I subscribe to Selena Kitt’s Excite Spice newsletters, at least partly to see what other people are publishing and what sub-genres seem to be popular. At least once a week, I read a blurb about some well-endowed guy “taking” a woman “hot, hard and unprotected”. Of course, bare-back sex is fundamentally more enjoyable than sex with a condom, but it seems that to post-AIDS readers, it is also breaking the rules and thus has acquired a new erotic charge. Personally I find this emphasis a little peculiar, since almost all the sex I’ve had in my life has been “unprotected”, but for the generations who came of age in the nineties and after, unprotected sex is forbidden, risky and exciting.

This started me pondering the question of whether I could write a story about a society with taboos against using condoms. Perhaps the elders in this society believe that fertility is sacred and that women are divinely intended to bear children. In such a world view, creating a barrier between sperm and egg would be viewed as thwarting the will of the Creator, as well as offering opportunities for women to indulge in sex for pleasure rather than for procreation.

Wait a minute... this suddenly doesn’t sound so original...

I’ve penned a few pieces where I’ve played with the idea of how taboos develop. In Quarantine, after a devastating, AIDS-like plague apparently spread by gay men, M/M intimacy has become illegal and invisible. The US has succumbed to nostalgia for the fifties, heterosexual sex is the only kind that officially exists, and simply having a genetic predisposition toward homosexuality means indefinite imprisonment in a remote internment camp.

My scifi short Trespass (in the altruistic erotica collection Coming Together: By Hand) involves a society in which everyone wears gloves. Fashions display large amounts of skin, but bare-handed contact is strictly forbidden – and thus unbearably arousing.

Then there’s incest. The original prohibition against inter-familial sex supposedly derives from the dangers of inbreeding. In a world (like today’s) where fertility can effectively be controlled, is there really any reason for brothers and sisters not to get it on?

Sometimes I rage against taboos that limit what I can publish. On the other hand, if all the rules were to suddenly vanish, that might have a negative impact on my imagination. I could still write about sensual pleasure – but pleasure can be so much sweeter when it’s forbidden.

Tuesday, November 5, 2019

Five days to win a skeptical woman's heart - #PNR #Vampire #Giveaway @Kristal081670

Red Snowflakes book cover
 
Blurb

Forensic photographer, Dena Williams, has spent her life trained to see what others cannot. Vampire, Dimitri Kovac, has waited every Christmas for a miracle that does not come. In the Oregon wilderness, during a snowstorm, these two destined souls collide. Dena's only hope of survival rests in a vampire with the heart of a poet. Dimitri only has five days to win a skeptical woman's heart. As the Christmas tree lights burn brightly and the snow continues to fall, will Dena succumb to a vampire's charms? With so little time, can Dimitri win her love?


Excerpt

Dena took a deep breath turning the knob then pushed the door open. Pitch-black darkness greeted her. Dimitri’s monstrous, canopy bed sat in the middle of the room. Black curtains enclosed the bed in a cocoon. Dena cautiously stepped inside and shut the door behind her then waited few moments giving her eyes time to adjust while kicking her boots off. Her feet shuffled across the floor. She hesitated before the drawn curtains unsure of what to do when the curtains jerked open and Dimitri grabbed her. Dena squeaked when he tossed her on his mattress. She couldn’t see a thing but felt his breath on her face. “Did you think I hung from my toes like a bat?”

There was that sense of humor she loved so much bringing a feminine chuckle in the darkness. With one hand, she reached for him. He was close. Her fingers traced the outline of his face, his eyebrows and his lips. “I thought you slept in a red, velvet-lined coffin with organ music blaring surrounded by candelabras with black candles.”

A big grin spread across Dimitri’s handsome face under her fingertips. “I’m a claustrophobic vampire who prefers rock and roll.”

About the Author

Kristal Dawn Harris is an American author, born in Middletown, Ohio. She currently resides in Ohio with her husband. Kristal has been married for 27 years and has two children. She graduated from Carlisle High School, then furthered her education at Miami University. She has a business degree in Accounting Technology. Kristal spent twenty years working as an Office Coordinator in the hospital until she released her debut novel, “The Rings of Faolan-Emeralds,” through The Wild Rose Press.

In 1999, Kristal suffered a debilitating disease called “Guillain-Barre Syndrome.” This rare disease damaged the nerves in her body requiring the use of drop-foot braces in order to walk. Kristal considers herself a survivor and encourages anyone with a disability to follow their dreams.

Kristal is considered a hybrid romance author since she published “Hand-Carved Wolf” and “Thief of Hearts” on her own. Kristal is an avid reader who enjoys romance from all genres, but paranormal is her favorite.

Other books by Kristal Dawn Harris

The Rings of Faolan-Emeralds

The Rings of Faolan-Rubies

Hand-Carved Wolf

The Burn

The Red Heart

Thief of Hearts

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Monday, November 4, 2019

Enchanting Halloween romance from @TinaDonahue! #PNR #PastLives #Halloween



The Magic That You Do cover


Halloween isn’t always scary. Sometimes, it’s romantic in a way you’d never believe.

Blurb

Passion. Friendship. Love. Some things a man simply can’t forget…

Finn has no idea what he’s doing at a haunted house on Halloween, but his tour guide Caty certainly rocks his world. Irresistibly drawn to her, he indulges in wicked delight and a return to their shared destiny.





Excerpt

Home. The word popped unbidden into Finn Gallagher’s mind. An odd occurrence even on Halloween when supernatural events supposedly ruled.

Not being superstitious, he should have smiled but couldn’t.

A Victorian house loomed before him, its façade painted rose, gingerbread trim strikingly white. Its vintage sign proclaimed—Haunted House Tours.

Definitely not home.

Children dashed past, costumed to resemble ghouls, reviled politicians, or popular media figures. Wonder Woman kicked butt for the girls. The genie from Aladdin edged out the Lion King for the boys. Kids swarmed the neighborhood and worked their way down the street. Their shrieks and shrill laughter faded. None bothered with the tour.

Maybe it sucked.

Finn had no idea about that or why he was here, unable to recall the trip or this destination.

Blustery wind swept across Lake Huron. The wintry blast tousled his hair, rattled bare tree limbs, and delivered an unbearable chill from the water. He clutched his coat closer to his throat and lifted his face. Ominous clouds pressed in. Coming rain scented the air.

Honeyed light poured from the house, the glow warm and inviting.

Strange that a haunted house should seem safer and more enticing than the street. Whoever had planned this tour was clueless as to what the public wanted or children demanded. A new group of kids ignored the place, not even bothering to check out the two bicycles abandoned on the expansive front lawn. The bikes, along with rollerblades and skateboards, were the only transportation allowed on the island.

He stilled, not certain how he’d known that. Probably had been on the sign. Nope. On a brochure? He patted his pockets. No literature there. Mystified, he stepped closer to the place.

A young woman stood on the widow’s walk. Her waist-length blonde hair and long white dress whipped in the stiff breeze. She leaned against the railing and offered a welcoming smile.

Intense heat coursed through him. His knees wobbled.

Something creaked.

The front door had blown in…unless it had opened on its own.

Dismissing such a crazy notion, he lifted his hand in greeting to the woman.

Gone. Where?

Shadowed figures passed the upstairs windows, gauzy curtains making them indistinct. The promised ghosts? He wanted to laugh but didn’t. One form stood a head taller than the other. Had to be a man with the young woman he’d seen. The guy was most likely her lover or husband.

Inexplicable sorrow gripped Finn followed by acute loss for someone he’d yet to meet. Definitely time to go. This was nuts.

He pivoted.

A strong violet scent surrounded him even though no flowers bloomed on the bushes. Drawn by the fragrance, he hurried up the walk toward the house.

A child darted into his path.

He reared back to avoid colliding with the little girl.

Unmindful of his presence, she waved and shouted to her companions. “Hold up! You’re going too fast!”

Laughing, they bolted away and taunted. “Slowpoke. Slowpoke. Slowpoke.”

She ran toward them, tripped on her witch costume, and tumbled to the grass.

Whoa.” Finn crossed the lawn and touched her arm to help. “You okay?”

No!” Crying, she shoved spilled candy into her sack and raced to her friends.

They laughed at her witch nose, bent from her fall. She giggled with them and set the thing right.

A gust scented from violets slammed into Finn and pushed him to the house.

Heart pounding, he crossed the porch and stopped in the foyer painted a cheery yellow with white moldings. Furniture from way back when decorated the expansive space.

Footfalls sounded overhead. One heavy. One lighter. The man and woman from the windows. He tilted his face to the ceiling. The couple crossed from room to room, working their way back to the master suite.

His skin prickled. He hadn’t a clue how he’d known that. Wait. The widow’s walk was on that side. Made sense the largest bedroom would be, too. He’d painted enough client portraits in front of and inside Victorian structures to know the architecture.

Relieved, he lowered his face and started.

The young blonde woman from earlier looked at him worriedly, her slender eyebrows lifted. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” She rested her hand on his arm. “Are you all right?”

More like delighted to have her next to him instead of upstairs with the man…and the other woman. “Yeah.”

I’m so glad.” Genuine happiness lit her lovely smile.

Her concern comforted and aroused him as nothing had in too many years. Warmth rolled through him, settling in his groin, thickening his cock.

Dark lashes fringed her sapphire-blue eyes. Pink flushed beneath her milky skin. Heat radiated from her despite the cold night and what little she wore. Her white crocheted dress was a throwback to hippy finery popular in the sixties, the intricate design bearing flowers and tassels. Silver rings graced each finger. None resembled an engagement or wedding band, thank God. The contraptions on her feet weren’t exactly shoes. There were no soles, merely braided leather cords wrapped around her slender toes that she’d then tied to her ankles. Dangling feathers and blossoms hammered from silver adorned the leather to make Bohemian wedding sandals.

His arms goose-pimpled. He didn’t want to guess how he’d known the name for her footwear. Never had he been into women’s fashions, especially those from long ago. It was 2019 for Chrissakes, his thirtieth birthday barely past.

She couldn’t have been older than mid-twenties.

Hi.” He offered his hand. “Finn Gallagher.”

Bliss crossed her lovely features. “Caitlyn.” She slid her fingers over his and squeezed gently.

His hair stood on end, indescribable pleasure filling him. Liking it, he grinned.

Loud laughter rang out overhead. “Did I interrupt your tour?”

Not at all, Mr. Gallagher. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Follow Tina!

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Sunday, November 3, 2019

A Kinky Sizzling Sunday - #SizzlingSunday #NewRelease #VegasBabes

Sizzling Sunday banner

Fancy a bit of Sunday shibari? I’ve got another exclusive excerpt for you today, from my new release Babes in Bondage. Enjoy!

Blurb

It’s 9 PM in Vegas. Do you know your safe word?

Some people just won’t mind their own business. When an anti-porn terrorist group shuts down the Sin City Fetish Fair, Larry Archer offers The Fox’s Den as an alternative venue. With the assistance of newly arrived dominant Master Shark, plans for the Den’s very first Kink Night quickly take shape. Indeed, the denizens of the Den are practicing their BDSM techniques well before the event.

Blonde, beautiful and untouched, Patricia Hastings leads the Citizens Resisting American Perversion in their fight against filth. She’s determined to destroy the licentious, permissive, anything-but-vanilla strip club – whatever it takes. A smidgen of plastic explosive should do the trick... If only she can resist her attraction to the voluptuous, red-headed minx Annie, and her own secret craving for surrender.

Caught in the act of sabotage, Patty faces a choice: arrest, scandal and prison, or private punishment at the hands of Master Shark and his horny acolytes. Will C.R.A.P.’s paragon of purity uphold her prudish principles? Or consent to the violations that populate her forbidden fantasies?

Sizzling Excerpt

Master Shark swept his eyes over her curves, an appreciative smile on his lips. She straightened her spine, elevating her ample breasts. Her black satin brassiere couldn’t hide her hugely erect nipples. Giulia didn’t care. A quick glance at Shark’s trousers made it clear that he was not immune to her charms.

After a pregnant instant, he continued his lecture. “Shibari is often practiced on a naked subject. The contrast of rough rope and smooth skin is visually attractive, while the friction can be highly arousing. Beginners, though, often start with a clothed ‘rope bunny’, to avoid becoming distracted.” Some of the audience giggled. “If the subject does wear any clothing, it should be form fitting, like Giulia’s leggings. Otherwise it will spoil the artistic effect.”

Leaving Giulia half-naked near the front of the stage, he went to fetch supplies from some shelves at the back. The curious stares from the crowd only made her hotter. I can do this, she told herself. I want to do this.

Today I’m going to show you Hisha Kerada —the classic diamond tie, sometimes called a ‘rope dress’. You’ve probably seen pictures. Actually, it’s easier than it looks.” He held up a fat bundle of red-dyed rope. “You’ll need about thirty feet of quarter inch diameter hemp or jute rope.” He waved his other hand, which held something metallic. “And be sure you have a good quality pair of medical scissors available. Just in case of emergencies.”

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice kind but with an undertone of steel.

Yes—yes, Sir. Just tell me what to do.”

Oh, I will, Miss Giulia. Just relax for now. Stand with your arms spread, as if you wanted to hug the audience.” There were more chuckles. “But try not to tense your muscles. That’s right.”

We begin by doubling the rope in the middle, with the doubled part hanging down her back and the two strands draped over her shoulders.” As he illustrated his instructions, he touched her body only when necessary. That didn’t make the contact any less intimate. She’d given herself to this man, to be made into an object of desire. She’d relinquished her will; she was no more than the canvas for his art. The knowledge intoxicated her, spurring her to even higher levels of arousal.

Now we fashion a loop at the back, between her shoulder blades—turn around, Giulia, so they can see, that’s right. We bring together the strands in the front —again, please—and make a series of equally spaced overhand knots: one at her throat, just below the collar bone; one between her lovely breasts—”

Her nipples strained against her bra, screaming, Touch me! Tweak me! His clever fingers lingered for a moment near her tits, and she knew he was tempted, but Dom that he was, he had unfaltering self-control. He created two more knots down her midline, one at her waist, one just above her navel. She struggled to remain still and not squirm in the direction of his fingers.

Now we run the two strands up between her legs and up her spine. At this point, if you like, you can create an optional ‘happy knot’, like this…” Shark tied the paired lines together again, near the gap between her thighs, then pulled it up tight between her legs. Giulia gasped. The last knot was perfectly positioned to put pressure on her already throbbing clit. Each time he manipulated the rope, the friction became more intense. Meanwhile, the rope settled deep into her ass cleft, rubbing against her anus through the stretchy cloth of her leggings.

Don’t squirm, Giulia. That’s a good girl…” The Dom continued his narration as he fed the rope ends through the loop between her shoulder blades, then under her arms and around to the front from either side. He slipped them between two strands, below the knot at her throat and above the knot between her tits, then drew them around to the back once more, pulling tight to make the first “diamond”.

Oh God! The hemp bit into the soft flesh above her breasts, not painful, but inescapable. He repeated the strategy, wrapping the rope below her tits this time, inserting the ends between the second and third knots, and pulling them to the back to make a second diamond. Her breasts were now captured in a vise of rope. The taut bonds made her flesh bulge; her nipples were so swollen she thought they’d explode. Meanwhile every tiny motion stimulated her raging clitoris and pushed her inexorably closer to climax.

Giulia didn’t want to come on stage, the way Jen had. That would just be too embarrassing. Yet as Master Shark continued to dress her in his scarlet cords, she wondered if she had any choice. He wasn’t teasing her, not directly. He touched her only in the most utilitarian way. Still with every loop and knot, he took more complete control of her body—and her mind. She floated, paradoxically relaxed despite the erotic tension singing through her limbs, waiting for his next command—turning to show the audience her rope-split buttocks, turning again to display her trussed up tits, every movement pushing the happy knot deeper into her throbbing cunt.

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Friday, November 1, 2019

The babes get kinky! #NewRelease #Giveaway #BDSMErotica #HEA


Babes in Bondage cover

At last! The latest installment in my Vegas Babes series hits the online bookshelves today. I’ve been working on Babes in Bondage – well, it seems like forever. I’m proud to present my latest literate smut for your entertainment.

Oh, and just to liven things up, I’m giving away a copy of the first Vegas Babes book, Hot Brides in Vegas. All you have to do to enter the drawing leave me a comment on this post to enter the drawing.


Blurb

It’s 9 PM in Vegas. Do you know your safe word?

Some people just won’t mind their own business. When an anti-porn terrorist group shuts down the Sin City Fetish Fair, Larry Archer offers The Fox’s Den as an alternative venue. With the assistance of newly arrived dominant Master Shark, plans for the Den’s very first Kink Night quickly take shape. Indeed, the denizens of the Den are practicing their BDSM techniques well before the event.

Blonde, beautiful and untouched, Patricia Hastings leads the Citizens Resisting American Perversion in their fight against filth. She’s determined to destroy the licentious, permissive, anything-but-vanilla strip club – whatever it takes. A smidgen of plastic explosive should do the trick... If only she can resist her attraction to the voluptuous, red-headed minx Annie, and her own secret craving for surrender.

Caught in the act of sabotage, Patty faces a choice: arrest, scandal and prison, or private punishment at the hands of Master Shark and his horny acolytes. Will C.R.A.P.’s paragon of purity uphold her prudish principles? Or consent to the violations that populate her forbidden fantasies?


Exclusive Excerpt

And what about you, Ted?” Stephen gently tipped Daphne onto the floor and leaned forward, skewering Ted with his intense gaze. “Are you into kink?”

I—I don’t know,” he stuttered. “Aside from a couple of spankings, I don’t have any experience.”

You seem pretty turned on, watching me torture Daphne.”

Because—well, because it looks like she wants it so much.”

Stephen nodded. “Exactly. That’s the key, the fundamental appeal of kink. You want to do all sorts of outrageous things to your sub, to use her body and mess with her mind—and she’s willing, eager in fact, to cooperate.”

Ted thought about Annie. Nobody would ever label her as submissive. Yet she loved to have him use her. She’d let him do pretty much anything he wanted. Her pleasure multiplied his own.

I could teach you,” Master Shark continued. “My intuition tells me you have the makings of a fine Dom.”

Erotic recollections flooded back. Since getting together with Annie, he’d sucked Joel’s and Rosa’s cocks, been pegged by Joel’s wife Miranda and been butt-fucked by his best friend Jake. The memories made him harder, but they also filled him with doubt. “I, um, I don’t really think I’m the dominant type…”

Why don’t we see?” He tapped his recumbent slave on the shoulder. “Daphne, go to the bondage bench.” The woman rose to her feet, crossed the room and draped herself face-down over a leather-upholstered rectangle in the far corner. Ted had assumed it was the back of a chair, but looking more closely, he realized this furniture was far more specialized. The position elevated her delectable ass, which was fuller than one might have expected from her willowy frame.

Stephen grabbed Ted by the arm. “Come on, man. Don’t be nervous. We can stop anytime you’re uncomfortable.”

As they came closer, Ted saw that Daphne had spread out her arms as if she were flying. Leather straps hung from each end of the padded surface.

Fasten the restraints around her wrists,” Shark instructed. “Tight enough that she can’t move much, but not so tight that it cuts off her circulation.”

The final six inches of the strips were Velcro-lined. It was a simple matter to loop them around Daphne’s extended limbs and to adjust the tension. Ted tried to keep his fingers from brushing against her satiny skin as he worked.

Shark noticed and laughed. “You can touch her if you want, dude. She’s yours to play with.” He stepped behind the bound woman to grasp and massage her ass cheeks. When Daphne arched her back in response, he pulled back and slammed his palm down on the quivering flesh. The sound made Ted jump.

Relax. Just remember—you’re in charge. Whatever you want from her, you can have. She’s as happy to serve you as me. Isn’t that true, pet?”

Daphne nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Sir.”

Tell Master Ted.”

Do whatever you want to me, Master Ted. I’m happy to serve you.”

Master Ted! Me? He almost giggled at the thought. The title seemed ridiculous.Yet at the same time, he felt something new stir inside him, a new sense of power. His cock stiffened in his trousers as an overwhelming wave of arousal swept through him.

He gazed at the bare, vulnerable body arrayed before him. She was bent at the waist, presenting her ass, with her legs apart for better balance. The position showed off the slick magenta folds of her sex. Moisture gleamed on the insides of her thighs, and her musky scent filled his head. She was turned on by the position, too.

Her butt bulbed out in silent invitation, the skin gleaming pearly white. He wondered, suddenly, what it would look striped with the red of a whip or a riding crop.

Can I—can I whip her?” Ted asked, before he could stop himself. God, had he really said that? He’d never hit a woman in his life—well, aside from the spanking he’d given Marcy, which the cheeky girl had asked for.

Certainly. What implement would you prefer?” Shark flipped open a wooden chest that Ted had assumed was an end table. The chest held a dozen different punishment devices, each one resting neatly in a satin-lined depression.

Holy shit!” Ted clamped his hand over his mouth. It was one thing to fantasize about delivering a whipping, quite another to be faced by this abundance of perversity. He shook his head. “I—I really have no idea.”

Any of them particularly appeal to you?” The Dom extracted a little whip with knotted strands about six inches long. “What about this flogger? Pretty easy to handle, with a nice, stingy feel.” The rich scent of leather filled Ted’s head as he inspected the offered device.

Um…”

Or maybe the tawse?” This was a fat strap, four inches wide and two feet long, of heavier leather than the tail of the flogger. One end narrowed into a handle, while at the other, the leather split into a comb-like arrangement. “This has a thuddier effect, so it can leave bruises.” Shark swished it through the air and landed a blow on the bondage frame, an inch to the left of Daphne’s breast.
Both she and Ted flinched.

But Daphne likes it,” Shark continued. “She’s proud of my marks.”

Ted’s cock felt like it would drill right through his pants. “I don’t know…” he began.

Then there’s the riding crop.” The fiberglass shaft whistled as Shark swept it in front of Ted’s eyes. This time, he brought the leather tongue down hard on the fullest part of Daphne’s ass. The girl yelped and jerked reflexively. A livid patch bloomed in the wake of the blow.

Ted watched in horrified fascination as the mark of the crop darkened and grew puffy. It looked as though it hurt. Yet he couldn’t help noticing the way the woman’s juices overflowed her pussy lips and dribbled down the inside of her thighs in the wake of Shark’s blow.

She was as aroused as he was.

She wanted more.


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