Our Precious Mistresses & Masters – #Reviews #DarkRomance #EroticRomance @Apky11162

By A P von K’Ory (Guest Blogger)

We love them. We crave them. We’d do just about anything to win them for ourselves. That might even include getting in the arena and fighting to the death to get them. No price seems to be too high for us here, literally. And when we manage to snag one of them, especially The One, we practically worship them. We’re basically ready and willing to go down on our knees and kiss their feet.

I’m talking about us authors and those brand new “gatekeepers” – reviewers. If you’re an author, I’m sure you know that heady feeling when a reviewer praises your work to high heavens. When it’s more than just one reviewer doing that? Lordamercy!

Well, I know that from personal experience, I simply go limp and find the nearest place to sit down before I keel over, and immerse myself in my personal euphoria.

Suddenly all those months and even years of dancing your fingers over the keyboard, all those sleepless nights mulling over that rebellious scene that refuses to obey your artistic codes of conduct, all the waking up suddenly in the middle of the night with a “Eureka!” and missiling yourself to your writing desk or grabbing that notebook you keep on the bedside table just for occasions like this, and bending the stubborn scene over your knees with the perfect words. The words that now flow calm, cool and collected like a mountain stream. All of it pays off in abundance when reviewers rave about your work. You did it. You gave birth to the perfect baby that everybody loves.

But then you also get that other reviewer. The one who makes you feel like you’re the tide and they’re the fish who have to swim against the current of your work like salmon swimming upstream to ensure the survival of their offspring. Or like the damselfish swimming against the tide to protect their territory.

But then the reviewer explains their criticisms and when these are justified they open your eyes to those pitfalls you or your editor should have avoided or discovered and edited out. So the reviewer still contributes positively to your work.

Lastly, you just might also stumble over what I call the SR – the sado-reviewer. The reviewer who seems to hate authors and books and all that, and is out to simply bash them. If you’re me, you send a few expletives their way under your breath. I just had one like that. Here’s their take on my latest book:

Title of review: Nope

Review: I really wanted to enjoy this one but I just couldn't. The writing wasn't that great, the story was hard to follow, and I just didn't care for either main character.

Bloody marvellous, dear reviewer. Now, just be a dear and tell me 1) what made you want “to really enjoy this one” and why you then “couldn’t”; 2) why “the story was hard to follow” and why you “didn’t care for either main character”. Then you’d have given me a review I would absolutely find valuable.

This reviewer, BTW, has over a thousand Amazon reviews and only 3 titles for each of them (admittedly I didn’t scrawl down all the 1000+ reviews): Nope, Okay, and Good.

I was reminded of the English historian, Lord Acton, and his famous words in a letter to Bishop Mandell Creighton: Power tends to corrupt; absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Absobloodylutely.

Blurb

You love to hurt, I love to hurt. A perfect f*cking match we make.” ~ Adrian

LEO

A three-letter word made me a murderess at the age of eight years. But having experienced the curses of that word, I was done with men as I grew up. All men.
Except to outplay them in the New York financial arena.
Then Crowned Sex enthroned in gorgeous velvet
charm and lustful gallantry storms into my life.
Spewing volcanic lava on my monumental arctic ice block. With the unapologetic fierceness of a savage god. Wearing crackling thunderbolts straight from the god Zeus. Explosive has nothing on it.

Adrian isn't hot, he's fucking hellish. He embarks on melting my ice block at the speed of lightning. But I was done with men.
I was done with sex. For ever. I. Was.

ADRIAN

I scented her darkness from the moment I was told
about her.
The sight of her sealed my decision. She was the woman created for my own darkness. I set off to protect her even from herself. Protect her to claim.
Fuse her darkness with my own. For. Myself.
I'd fended women off me with bazookas when I was done but they weren't. I wasn't prepared for the battle I soon fought. Not only with her but also with her family. And New York's billionaire gangsters who own
entourages of corrupt cops and politicians. With every battle I won, she started new darker wars around me.
You ate or you were eaten. Not even starving was an option.

NOTE: Although the blurb is in the first person, the story of Leo and Adrian is written in the third person. This book contains adult material, explicit sex, and violence. You have been warned.

Buy Links (Ebook)

HIS UNTAMEABLE WICKEDNESS Bk 1

US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09XKL9R6N

UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09XKL9R6N

DE https://www.amazon.de/dp/B09XKL9R6N

CA https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B09XKL9R6N

AU https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B09XKL9R6N

SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1151357

Reviews

This author is new to me so I was intrigued, and I'm glad I read this story. Leo is the kind of strong heroine that I'm obsessed with, as she managed to not let her traumatic childhood beat her down, nope, it made her even stronger. She's worked her behind off to get to where she is, and she definitely won't let anyone take it away from her. However, life is about to take a big swing at her when Adrian comes into her life, so let the games begin. I'm telling you, these two aggressive alphas made for one hell of an entertaining journey that I truly enjoyed, but I'm not going to tell you why because that would be no fun… ~ Jennifer Pierson

This is the first in a new series, and the first time I have read any of this authors’ work, and I will certainly be looking out for her work in the future. Leo survived a traumatic childhood, and she is resilient, strong, and wealthy, and has worked hard to be in the place she in now and is adamant that nobody will take this away from her. When Adrian comes into her life, she was not prepared for him, and they may be opposites like petrol and a match, but they complement each other perfectly. This is a good story which is intriguing, and entertaining, and enjoyable. I look forward to reading more from this author, and I recommend this story. ~ Wendy Livingstone

This is the first book I read from this author and I enjoyed it. Leo had an extremely hard childhood and has been successful in the business world. I will say that it’s a wild ride when Adrian comes into her life. ~ GVLADY

Excerpt

Men were monsters. Powerful beasts. They misused their power. They destroyed what they should nurture. They were megalomaniacs who mistook themselves for God. They mass ruined and failed to even notice that fact, as if it was some invisible Da Vinci Code cryptogram shit, while they leave nothing but desolation and devastation in their wake. They interchanged their wants for needs but disregarded the needs of others. They attacked the helpless. Those they should protect. They hurt those loving them. They were callous. They were cruel. They believed that they had the right incentive to make a woman willingly become their doormat. Insult to injury, they thought they were entitled to it by virtue of owning a penis.

They were the scum of the earth.

And they were chameleons, blending in perfectly with their surroundings as and when the need arose.

That’s why she’d decided never to let herself want a man. Never to land herself anywhere where she would have the misfortune of needing a man. She could screw them and leave them, balls crushed. And never between her legs.

All of which were the reason she should find a way to get Adrian Xerxes Cranford forbidden from coming anywhere near her. He was the worst thing, almost, that ever happened to her.

All the bad things in her childhood, she’d been powerless to do anything about. But she could do something about Adrian. About the thermal energy radiating from his stellar-explosion eyes. About his voice that vacillated between icy hissing crystal, over authority demanding attention, all the way to a lullaby. She caught herself all too often drawn to his voice as it aroused something in her. There were times when his voice sounded like the very science of happiness to her. The almost constant irritation he caused her was apparently not the only response he elicited from her. She knew all too well that moths zooming in too close to the flame get singed to death. Admittedly, the lullaby lured her, but also made her feel like she was navigating between Scylla of authoritarian taste and the Charybdis of slop.

Right, rock and a fucking hard place.

About the Author

A P von K’Ory writes romance, psychological thrillers, and nonfiction. She loves diversity – it’s in her aristocratic DNA. She has won more than half a dozen prizes and awards from four continents. Her family stretches from the Nilotes of the Eastern African Nile Delta to Germany, France, and the Walloons (Belgium). She lectures Economics and Sociology in Austria, Germany, and Switzerland. Being migratory –  and weather willing –  she lives in Germany, France, Cyprus, and Greece. 

Connect with A P von K'Ory

A P VON K'ORY can be reached under the links below.

Visit her Website: http://apvonkory.com

Signup for her Newsletter: https://apvonkory.com/contact

Instagram über mich & meine Bücher & Macken:

https://www.instagram.com/apvonkory

Would you like to join hands and receive ARCs of my next books? Then please join the „Discerning Readers“ here:

https://www.facebook.com/AkinyiReadersReviews/

The latest interviews and news about Shana und Roman on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Goshanaliterotic

It would be lovely if you could visit and like my author page and read more bites about Shana and Roman as well as Leo and Adrian, the Coming Soon(s), Cover Reveals and even about what I had for breakfast, the dinner I burnt to cinders the night before or the perfect cake I baked for Sunday family coffee Here’s my Author page link:

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAPVonKOry

Follow me on Twitter under: @Apky11162 https://twitter.com/Apky11162

English Book trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WkGuFzsRgsM

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7063572.A_P_Von_K_Ory

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/a-p-von-k-ory

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/APvonK'Ory

Google Play: https://play.google.com/books/publish/u/0/a/14014035798980597784#list

Verve Romance: https://ververomance.com/app/APVonKOry

Autorenecke (German): https://www.autorenecke-gelsenkirchen.de/autorenecke/a-p-von-k-ory 

A true gentleman -- #Erotica #Humor #FreeBook #MFRWSteam

Welcome to the MFRW Steam Hop for July! Today’s the day we erotic authors have the chance to pull out all the stops and heat things up to our heart’s content.

I write both erotica and erotic romance, sometimes mixing them up. The Vegas Babes series is more the former than the latter, but it does have romantic elements – as illustrated by my excerpt today, a tender – and incendiary – interlude between the bride and groom.

Don’t take it too seriously; it’s just for fun. And speaking of fun, I will give away an ebook copy of More Brides in Vegas to one person who leaves a comment on this post.

Enjoy!

More Brides in Vegas: Vegas Babes Book 2

Tying the knot — with no strings attached!

Annie and Ted are getting married, and they’ve invited all their friends from The Fox’s Den Amateur Night to the party. Taking over a vintage eighties motel with a courtyard and pool for their private function, the bride and groom expect a certain amount of carnal excess. Still, nobody’s prepared for the sexual free-for-all that breaks loose. 

 

Excerpt (Rated X)

She flipped to the note-taking app to check her list. Was there anything she’d forgotten? She’d already called the florist to confirm the next morning’s delivery. The caterer, too. Father Fred had said he’d drop by this afternoon for a last minute consultation about the ceremony. Hopefully he’d be here shortly. It wouldn’t do to have him arrive during the party, which she expected would not really be priest-appropriate!

Quite a few out-of-town guests were expected to arrive on flights tomorrow morning. The motel had made their van available for airport pickups as a complimentary service. Well, she was bringing them a nice piece of business. She didn’t imagine the rather age-worn Holiday House hosted all that many weddings these days.

Bent over her phone and concentrating on her list, she was startled when a pair of strong arms slid around her waist and a warm mouth nuzzled her ear.

“How’s my beautiful bride?” Ted licked his way down the side of her neck, making her shiver, then turned her head so he could plant a kiss on her mouth.

“Much better, now that the groom is back!” She melted into his arms, offering him a more convenient angle. Ted kissed like an angel. For long moments, Annie dwelt in heaven.

“Everything go all right?” she asked, when he finally released her.

“Like clockwork, except that I missed you.” Ted palmed her breasts through her thin top, his thumbs circling her nipples. Her nubs snapped to attention. Pushing the shirt up to her armpits, he bent to suckle the tender buds, making them harder still. He dragged her hand to his bulging crotch. “See? I need to be inside you, Annie-belle. Right now.”

“We don’t have time, baby,” she protested, even as he shimmied her shorts down her shapely legs. “The guests—”

“Are coming for our wedding, Annie.” He hoisted her up so she was sitting on the dining table and spread her thighs. “This weekend is about us. Our love. Everything else comes second.” Leaning in, he took a lungful of her musky scent. “You’re turned on, don’t pretend you’re not. You want me.”

“Of course I want you—oh!” Her fiancé’s tongue left a trail of fire as he swept it through her folds. “Oh, god, that feel’s so good! Oh, Ted…!” Her lover burrowed deeper into her snatch, licking and biting, driving her crazy. “Ted—the glass doors—anyone could be watching!”

“Let ‘em watch,” he replied, tearing open his fly to release his pulsing erection. Positioning himself in the V of her legs, he drove his cock into her juicy cunt in one smooth, glorious motion.

Annie sighed with bliss as he stretched her wide. He felt incredible. No slow starts for her Ted. Right away he was pounding her pussy like a jackhammer, with a force that made her toes curl. Resting on her elbows, she opened herself to his fierce thrusts.

God, she loved the way he fucked her! She remembered the first time, in the VIP quarters at The Fox’s Den. She’d wanted him the minute she stepped onto the stage and saw him seated at the edge, his eyes following her every move. Sure, she had entered the Amateur Night contest hoping to win one of the generous prizes, to help cover her university tuition, but once Ted appeared, he was all she thought about. She’d danced for him only, to seduce him, to win him. She could see he was shy and a bit nerdy, with his glasses, clean-shaven cheeks and neatly clipped hair. Well, Annie knew how to get a guy hot. In her debut performance as a stripper, she’d used every trick she could think of.

Not that Ted really needed encouragement, once they were alone. He’d plunged his fine cock deep into her hungry cunt and ravaged her just the way she liked. Even when it turned out they weren’t exactly alone—Franny and Jake, Laura and Steve, Chantal and Foxy, even fusty old Aunt Giulia had ended up in carnal clinches in the VIP suite that crazy night—Ted hadn’t stopped fucking her until she’d climaxed four times. Only then did he roar and fill her with his cum.

A true gentleman, her Ted. With a very talented cock.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature: http://kinkyliterature.com/book/4374-more-brides-in-vegas-vegas-babes-book-2/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07DYPQ57T

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07DYPQ57T

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/844220

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/more-brides-in-vegas-lisabet-sarai/1128957058?ean=2940155308614

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/more-brides-in-vegas-vegas-babes-book-2

Apple Books - https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1403372927

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40615243-more-brides-in-vegas

Don't forget to leave a comment. And I hope you'll visit the other spicy authors participating in today's Steam Hop!

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Fated family connections – #MagicalRealism #Literature #Giveaway

Blurb

There are those who are born into loving families and then there are the less fortunate who must forge their own families through strong friendships. At a local small library in New York City, one such family was born. And just like so many capricious happenstances in life, this family unit embraced newcomers and grew exponentially. But this clan was also charged with far more than spreading love and joy and a sense of belonging. This clan was formed by divine Providence to help save the planet.

Gabrielle Bernstein, the main character of Like a Lily Among the Thorns, is a woman in her twenties and has started her career as a librarian at a NYC public library. Abandoned by her father as a young girl and now orphaned by her deranged mother, Gabby longs for a family connection. Coincidentally, she finds this connection at the same time she inherits a B&B in Vermont from her estranged and now deceased father. This enchanted inn is under the watchful eye of goddesses of myth and legend who have been tasked to save mankind from destroying itself and this planet. These goddesses will use their powers to try and stall the onslaught of the effects of droughts, floods, and rising temperatures. But as a safety net they have collected human saviors all over the planet to erect safe havens at high altitudes away from flood waters and blistering temperatures.

This one group of saviors are ordinary people who have some extraordinary abilities and enjoy a higher consciousness. They are brought together to join forces in Vermont to create one such refuge. Along the way there is romance, misunderstandings, conflict, and internal growth. Locations are Manhattan, London, Brooklyn, and Rutland, Vermont. Woven through this tale is Gabrielle’s inherent understanding that she must be grateful, mindful, and present in this journey called “life.”  

The impending devastation that will be brought about by the effects of global climate change is the underpinning of this Cli-Fi/speculative fiction novel. Like a Lily Among the Thorns  focuses on how this potential disaster will have dire consequences for us all and is currently becoming more top of mind as people are waking up to strange weather events such as the scorching temperatures that have gripped the Northwestern states and torrential rains in the Northeast.

Excerpt

Sometimes a major change in one’s life comes on the heels of ordinary events. A dinner invitation and cab ride can be more than transportation from here to there for food. The Countess would become a very important addition in Gabby’s life but as of right now, none of them knew that, particularly, the Countess. Frozen in place while staring at the luxury townhouse, Gabby was caught up short. Reality had suddenly become fluid, become a changeling, a stranger in the night. The hours she had spent imagining the Countess’s life as a Hollywood starlet or Gatsby character now converged with the truth of her circumstances. It was hard to digest this shift in perspective when everyone at the library remained unenlightened and still believed the Countess was a brave woman struggling to make ends meet just to get by. The bombardment of the truth was too much to absorb right now, especially when her own life was in such flux. She also did not want to think of how this information revealed the Countess’s damning deception, her disingenuousness to everyone. It was a mind-numbing disappointment, a gut punch that made her feel off balance.

Everything was suddenly out of step and off-kilter. Too much random noise was being thrown at her by the cosmos, a shock to the senses. In just one day, today, to be exact, she had been notified that her apartment building was being demolished, her friends at the coffee shop, albeit not close, would be summarily swallowed up by the cavernous city as they dispersed, and now this…this unexpected truth of the Countess’s financial situation.

About the Author

All my work is inspired by social issues to which we all can relate. Work/ life stresses, the loss of a spouse and how marriage can sometimes swallow a woman’s identity, and the prevalence of greed in modern society.

Walking with Elephants is my first novel, although I am not new to writing. I was a theater critic and celebrity interviewer for a weekly tabloid in Jacksonville, Fl and I earned a Master’s in Mass Communication from Oklahoma State University. For 15 years I worked in Corporate America as a technical editor/editor/writer. I experienced first hand the politics and intrigue that goes with that territory and the balancing act that comes with being a working mother. I salute all those mothers who are the glue that holds their families together while pursuing the nine to five brass ring and were the inspiration for this work. Audible book is available and narrated by me.

With my second novel, Sunspots, I continue to be in awe of the magical and wondrous phenomenon called life. As an observer and obvious participant in feminine values and approach to our human challenges, I bring this perspective to my work. Fascinated by the mysteries of the unseen forces that perhaps play a role in guiding our choices, I search for answers in the mundane as well as in the cosmic forces that surround us.

Alexa’s pact with the Devil in When a Stranger Comes…is an allegory for the evil lurking in our midst. The social decay of modern society with its excessive greed, the ignorance of our political leaders, and our indifference toward the survival of all species from the effects of climate change, among other environmental pressures, are perhaps brought forth by the darkest forces of human nature. The audible book narrated by me is in production.

The genre of magical realism appeals to me and all my work has elements woven in. My current project is focused on a Bed and Breakfast that becomes a safe haven from the effects of climate change while celebrating the Feminine Divine and is set squarely in that realm.

I am working on my next novel in Ponte Vedra, Fl. where I live with my husband and our two furry kids. Our human kids have flown the nest and are scattered far and wide, alas.

https://karensbell.com

https://twitter.com/karensuebell

https://www.facebook.com/ksbwwe

Buy Link

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09V3FNTCT

Karen S. Bell will be awarding a copy of the book to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Irresistibly drawn to her fire... #SecondChance #HistoricalRomance #InterracialRomance @RobeccaAustin

Blurb

After a disastrous love affair, Lord Gilleasbuig was content living a life outside of London’s spotlight until a series of accidents threatened to leave his estate without an heir. Lucky for him, he had a son he could claim and protect.

After all, how difficult could it be to fetch his estranged son from an orphanage with too many children to care for?

Except, the breathtaking Miss Sadie Fields, who had cared for the child since birth, was a force to be reckoned with. She was furious at Gill for shirking his duties but he was irresistibly drawn to her fire.

Determined to prove himself a good father and win Sadie’s trust, Gill offered her a chance to continue watching over her charge. When she agreed, Gill was eager to return to his boring secluded life, but danger continued to shadow him.

While dodging danger in an unconventional arrangement, a more permanent union risked disappointing his son and losing his last chance at love.

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B41GZ5PS

Free on Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt

Miss Sadie Meredith Fields gaped at the three women in the room. She hid the pain of her heart shattering. Nothing prepared her for this moment. Not all the times she reminded herself this day would come or the incredulousness of knowing that she, a nanny, born from parents who were once enslaved prior to life in London might freely love a blue-eyed babe she had helped raise from the time he arrived at the orphanage four and a half years ago.

He should have been adopted years ago. He was sweet-natured, but for reasons she couldn’t explain until now, Edwin was not. So she had fallen in love with the little boy who brought joy to her life after the death of her parents. How could she not? Edwin was happy and kind. He was a curious boy who thirst to know more.

Mrs. Headly exchanged a wary glance with her niece Miley before turning back to her. “I know this is shocking, Sadie. But the boy’s father is on his way as we speak.”

Mackenna, the third orphan mother in the room, stood. “We wanted ye to know before the mon arrived.” Her Scottish dialect was heavy even after living in London for the past five years.

Except for Mrs. Headly and Miley, the other orphan mothers had experienced some prejudice due to the circumstances of their race and now did everything in their power to help children of the same faith living adjacent to the Rookery.

Her chest ached as she imagined Edwin’s reaction when he realized he wouldn’t see any of his friends or her again. While this man was Edwin’s father, he was a stranger to the child. “He won’t understand.”

Mrs. Headly cleared her throat. “He will be more accepting if you explain it to him.”

She stiffened. They wanted her to help this stranger—who never bothered to visit Edwin—take him away? Like hell. But even as her fury spiked, she recognized how powerless she was in the matter. “I will not lie to the child.”

“Of course not,” Miley said. “But he will be more receptive if he hears about his father from you.”

She couldn’t simply send Edwin off with this man. Sadie gripped her hips, her nails dug into her flesh through the gray wool day dress even as she admitted how ridiculous barring a Duke from his child was.

The thought of living in a grand house with places to uncover would excite Edwin. If she closed her eyes, she could picture the wonder in his bright eyes. Wonder and excitement she would never see again. Love she would never again experience.

“What do we know about this… this Duke?” She faced the women. “For all we know, he is cruel—”

“Lass—” Mackenna started, but Sadie shook her head.

“And his wife—how do we know she will love Edwin? How many from the nobility do we know that cannot abide their husband’s bastard—”

“Sadie—” Miley’s eyes widened. 

She had to make them reconsider, at least until they knew more about the man. “I suppose he wants us to identify Edwin. If left to his own devices, can this Duke pick out his child? I think we ought to let him try.” That was a grand idea. Let him chase his tail for an hour. The man was bound to realize caring for a child was not as easy as he thought.

“You think I cannot identify my blood?”

Sadie flinched at the deep, powerful voice that rippled through her ear. Every fiber of her being surged with awareness. Her senses caught fire, and she hadn’t seen the man yet. Sadie cursed her treacherous response to the man’s voice, wanting to hold on to her ire.

This was the man going to take her child, and likely for no other reason than to appease his wife who could not give him heirs. Tilting her chin, she faced him and said, “Can you, Your Grace? Of course not. Not when you have never laid eyes on the—” The rest of her words hung in her throat.

The Duke cocked a challenging brow.

Sadie bit the inside of her cheek as a pair of sky-blue eyes glared at her. Eyes very much like Edwin’s.

 

About the Author

Robecca Austin is the author of happy ever after romance stories. She enjoys crafting tales of sassy heroines and passionate heroes that have a soft center.

She writes historical romance and billionaire romance stories.

You can find her outside enjoying nature and lots of sunshine when there are no bugs. When she's not writing her next novel, she's busy battling Cystic Fibrosis and hugging family. She lives and works in Canada.

Social Media Links:

Website: https://www.robeccaaustin.com

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/robeccaaustin/

Historical Newsletter: https://tinyurl.com/ezc8nm9z

Contemporary Newsletter: https://tinyurl.com/yd4mbvcr

She might have been the only person on earth – #Summertime #Nature #PNR #MFRWHooks

Greetings! For today’s MFRW Book Hooks hop, I felt like posting something summery. I believe this bit from my paranormal erotic romance Hot Spell will fit the bill nicely!

Blurb

Comfortable and at home in nature, Sylvie doesn't mind being alone in the wilderness. But she's not the only being haunting the glades and the trails. The stranger she encounters bathing in the stream near her camp obviously wants her, but refuses to act on his desire. Aidan is cursed with a power he fears will destroy her if they surrender to their passion. Can Sylvie refrain from tempting him?

 

The Hook

She awoke with the sun on her face. It had to be at least nine—maybe later—if the sun was high enough to make it through the canopy. The air still had a hint of freshness but she could tell it was going to be another hot day.

She really didn’t want to get dressed. It felt so right to be naked. This early in the season, the chances of meeting someone out here, in an official wilderness area, were miniscule. Of course, she might encounter the man from the stream again…

The thought made her heart beat faster. Who was he? Anyway, he’d already seen her body, hadn’t he?

She finally compromised, donning a T-shirt and khaki shorts but no underwear. She planned to hike to Crystal Lake today. She needed some protection against scratches and bug bites on her most delicate parts. As she puttered around the campsite, getting her breakfast and cleaning up, she began to doubt the wisdom of her choice. The soft brush of cotton against bare flesh teased her nipples into tight beads and the crotch of her shorts was already damp.

She wasn’t normally so easily aroused. It must be the effect of the fresh air…not to mention the escape from the stress of her normal life. Jill and Alice would be scandalized, but why should she care? It felt so good, it couldn’t be wrong.

Sylvie looked at her day pack with distaste. On such a sweltering day, she really didn’t want to be weighed down. She peered up at the sky, a bowl of cloudless, brilliant blue. Certainly, there was no chance of rain. After tucking her jack-knife, compass, and a few Band-Aids into one pocket and a couple of granola bars into the other, she hoisted the rest of her gear into a tree to protect it from bears. She set off towards the lake, delightfully unencumbered except for the canteen swung over her shoulder.

Although the blazes marking the trail were obvious, the path was strewn with fallen branches. I must be the first to take this path since last year, she thought, a notion that raised her already-high spirits. She loved the idea of being the only human for miles around.

What about the man in the creek? The recollection should have alarmed her, but it had the opposite effect, magnifying her excitement. Her chest seemed full of helium. Her feet flew along the trail. Her rigid nipples poked through the clinging fabric of her sweat-damp tee. The thrill of being back in nature mingled with a steady buzz of arousal, fed by friction and memory.

Tree shadows told her it was well past noon by the time she reached the high meadow that overlooked Crystal Lake. The lake spread out below, a shimmering expanse of sapphire fringed with emerald. From the city, the hills had looked sere and sun-bleached, but here in the heart of the mountains all was green, save for the scarlet splash of early poppies. Jagged peaks reared in the distance, still clad in snow, almost too bright to look at.

The sun beat down upon her, burning hot but somehow less cruel than in the city. The warmth distilled the fragrances of nature—pine resin and crushed foliage, musty fungus and moist soil. Sylvie filled her lungs. The spicy mountain air was like wine, making her feel drunk, wild, a bit crazy.

She glanced around the clearing. A flock of swifts swirled up from the rippling sea of green into the surrounding trees. Otherwise, all was quiet. She might have been the only person on earth.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1489-hot-spell-elemental-passions-book-1/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09RBDV6CN

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09RBDV6CN

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1129862

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hot-spell-lisabet-sarai/1140939301?ean=2940165765773

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hot-spell-elemental-passions-book-1

Apple Books - https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1607413746

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60242459-hot-spell

I hope you’ll visit the other authors participating in today’s Hop!

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The Difficult Nature of Romance – #JaneAusten #RomCom #Giveaway @JAMLW_Writer @JeanetteAWatts

By Jeanette Watts (Guest Blogger)

What makes a story a romance?

This doesn’t seem like that difficult a question. But in terms of managing the expectations of readers, enveloping all kinds of stories that involve two people falling in love under a one-word title is completely inadequate to the job.

For many, the word romance means sex scenes. Not hard core pornography with lots of extreme details, but a lot of sex with a sizeable amount of detail. I have talked to readers who get extremely angry when they’ve bought romance books that didn’t have any sex scenes in them.

At the same time, if I ask people if Jane Austen wrote romances, everyone I talk to says yes. Um…. Generally, Jane Austen characters don’t so much as kiss… Okay, I’m curious, so I looked it up. The word “kiss” is in Emma twice – once Harriet kisses Emma’s hand in gratitude, and Mrs Weston gives Emma a motherly kiss. In Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth kisses her little cousins, Mr Wickham kisses her hand after he has married Lydia, Jane kissed her father after she gets engaged. So a whole three kisses. None of them between the characters we are hoping will fall in love and get married by the end. At least in Sense and Sensibility, Willoughby kisses the lock of hair he collects from Marianne. There’s also a kiss from a mother to a daughter, a grateful kiss from one sister to another, and Colonel Brandon respectfully kisses Elinor’s hand. Not Marianne’s hand – but Elinor’s. It’s not romantic, but appreciative.

So, if a romance novel requires sex scenes, but Jane Austen’s novels are romances and they don’t even kiss… what am I supposed to call my books?

There’s love, there’s devotion, there’s even lust. There’s admiration, there’s friendship, there’s longing – perhaps even a mild obsession or two… There’s a happy ending. (At least, in most of my books.) I don’t have much in the way of sex scenes, because of the source material I’ve started with. My first novel, Wealth and Privilege, was inspired by Gone With the Wind. The sex is “off camera” there. And three of my novels are various retellings of Jane Austen novels. Sex is not in the original source material, so it’s not explicit in my books. They are full of feeling, of uncertainty, of passion, but not sex.

So, are they romantic, but not romances? Is that a thing?

The publishing world has not been very helpful. Sometimes there are subcategories, like “Sweet Romance,” or “Romantic Comedy.” Sometimes “Historical Fiction” has a subcategory for “Historical Romance.” But not always. My book is the same book, but it can get filed in very different places, depending on the web page, or distributor, or blog.

I have come to no conclusions, thus far. I am still fumbling my way, figuring out what to call myself, trying to explain my books to potential readers. It’s easier to explain my books than it is to give them a simple one-word label.

What’s my new book about? Falling in love, of course. And how complicated that can be. Isn’t that what all romances are, in the end, about?

Let me know what you think. I'll give away two ebook copies of JALM to randomly selected people who leave a comment!

Blurb

Dear Diary,

In three years of college, there are seven times my life seemed to suddenly turn into a Jane Austen novel; seven times my life, instead of becoming a romance, turned into a made-for-TV drama.

What am I doing wrong?

Excerpt

Nov 19

I got a job! I’m at the circulation desk of the law library. So a whole lot of sleep-deprived caffeine junkies come hand me books that they want to take home and fall asleep over in their dorms, instead of at a library table. I put in applications all over campus, and tried to focus on jobs in the sciences that might be good experience for a future pharmacist. Not much luck on that score. I’m happy enough. This will do. It’s a great job. I get to do my homework while getting paid at the same time. I’ll just get interrupted sometimes to check out books, and spend some time reshelving them, which makes for a nice posture break from time to time. It doesn’t get much better than this.

That’s how I found out that Darcy Fitzwilliam is in law school. I should have figured. He’s already perfected his poker face for the courtroom.

He came up to my desk and asked me a question, and I told him he really needed to speak to the reference librarian. “I’m only here to stamp the books after you pick them out. I don’t field questions. I think you have to be a lawyer before you’re qualified to be a reference librarian in a law library.”

He went over to the reference desk, and I went back to the stack of books I was processing. I was a little startled when I got up from the desk to put my stack of books on a cart, and he was standing there again.

“Have you been working here long?” he asked me.

“I started Tuesday, so, no.”

“Ah, that’s why I haven’t seen you here before.” We stood there for a moment, looking at each other. I had my arms loaded down with books, he stood in between me and the cart where I could put them down. “Well, I’m sure I’ll see you again.” He walked away.

His eyes are brown.

 

You can get your copy of Jane Austen Lied to Me here: https://www.amazon.com/Jane-Austen-Lied-Jeanette-Watts-ebook/dp/B075XHNR3W

Hashtags I use a lot include #JaneAusten, #JAFF, #RomanticComedy, #RomanceReader. Keywords confuse me, since a reader can type in “Mr Darcy” or “Jane Austen” or “Pride and Prejudice” for their searches, but Amazon doesn’t allow me to use the same things when I enter my keywords.

I have a new Twitter handle, @JAMLW_Writer, but I’m not sure how that’s working. I think mostly people are finding me at @JeanetteAWatts, which I mostly use to read political posts. Yeah, it’s sad I get my news from my Twitter feed...

About the Author

Jeanette Watts is a dance instructor, writer, seamstress, actress, and very, very poor housekeeper. She loves writing historical fiction, but when she needed to write a dance textbook, she had to go off and do that. Partway through revising her next historical fiction, she got an idea for a modern comedy, and had to stop to write that. She started on ANOTHER work of historical fiction, but stray comments keep inspiring her to go off on other tangents. At least these tangents keep resulting in entertaining novels.

Now she's trying to write the next historical fiction as fast as she can, realizing her brain hates her and won't let her finish one idea before the next idea comes along.

Keep up with the various parts of Jeanette's brain at www.JeanetteWatts.com.

Not all endings are happy – #LiteraryErotica #Marketing #Obsession

Image by Wendy Koon from Pixabay

I haven’t published anything in about a month. I have a novel-length work in progress (the third book in my Toymakers Guild series), but meanwhile, I’d like to put out some shorter pieces to help keep my Amazon rank up.

So I thought I might put together a cover and publish my 6K short story Woman in White. This is literary erotica that originally appeared in Maxim Jakubowski’s anthology Sex in the City: New York. I’ve always been fond of this tale about an illegal immigrant who works at a news stand in front of Grand Central Station and the gorgeous professional woman who gets her New York Times and Wall Street Journal from him every day.

When I re-read the story, however, in preparation for new edits, I came away filled with doubt. The problem is, this story does not end well, for either of the main characters. It’s a classic tale of erotic obsession and mistaken intentions. I personally think it’s both arousing and moving, but will my readers care about that? It seems these days people won’t buy something that doesn’t have a happy ending.

Now I’ve lost my confidence. Of course, I can publish it and see how it does, but do I want to put in that effort if it’s just going to fall flat?

So I thought I’d ask you, the readers of my blog. Here’s the first page or so of the tale. What do you think? Would you want to read more, even if you knew there was no HEA?

I’d love to know your opinions.

Woman in White

By Lisabet Sarai

I'm not a stalker. I didn't mean to freak her out. Aie - Dios Mio! The last thing I wanted was to hurt her. I just couldn't help myself. She was my goddess, my dream. My reason for getting up in the morning.

I didn't know her name or where she lived, but still, I knew her. Every day I'd hunker down on my milk crate outside the Graybar entrance to Grand Central, her Times and her Wall Street Journal already set aside and ready. I'd wait for her cheery “Good morning”, delivered in that husky voice that sent shivers down my spine.

“Good morning, miss.” I'd hand her the papers. She'd give me her four bucks and a smile that turned me to jelly, then stride away on her high heels and disappear into the terminal. I'd stuff the bills, still warm from her hand, inside my shirt, as close to my skin as I could get. At night, I'd bring them out, sniffing for a hint of her perfume.

I'd lie on my cot in my cousin's kitchen, gripping my bicho, conjuring her out of the darkness. She usually dressed in white—fitted jackets and straight skirts that were sexy but business-like. In snug clothes like that, someone with her curves should have looked trashy, but somehow she was always elegant and professional. Never mind the gold in her earlobes, the lips painted blood red, the stilettos that had her towering over me as I crouched near the pavement. She had class.

I loved to imagine what she might have on underneath. Smooth silk cradling her swelling breasts, the snowy lace a shocking contrast to her espresso-dark skin. Pale satin hugging that ripe ass and vanishing into the cleft between her thighs. I'd be hard in a minute from the pictures I painted for myself.

Her voice was in my ear, low and raw. "Come on, baby. Give it to me," she'd tease. She would straddle me, tits dangling in my face, brushing her pussy hair over my dick. I'd grab her meaty hips and pull her down onto my rod. Her moans drowned out the traffic, the sirens, the thud of my cousin's bed as he banged his girl in the next room.

It didn't matter how raunchy she talked. She was always a lady, even when I rammed her from behind, making her curse and clench her pussy around my dick. She was my beautiful black queen. She was practically my saint. I worshiped her with my come, pouring it out for her by the gallon. It was the only thing I could give her, aside from her papers and my nervous greeting.

She showed up every work day around eight, more predictable than the sun. Before her arrival, my heart slamming against my ribs, I kept my eyes on the crowded sidewalk, watching for the first glimpse of her curvy form coming up Lexington. After she left, I'd replay the memories: the twinkle in her eyes, her throaty laugh as she bid me good day. Had she been a bit more friendly today? Had she smiled more warmly, lingered a bit longer than usual? She hurried off to what must be some important job, maybe down on Wall Street, leaving me aching but happy.