Sunday, April 24, 2016

Sunday Snog 223: Incognito (#lesbian #taboo #bestseller)


I spent most of today working on a story targeted for Best Lesbian Erotica 2017. So I thought I’d treat you to a bit of F/F naughtiness for today’s Sunday Snog.

This bit is from new edition of Incognito. Yes, that book does include some lesbian encountersalong with everything else!



When you’re done here, hop over to Sunday Snog Central, where Victoria Blisse will treat you to more sexy kisses.

Oh, and if you’ve a mind to check out Incognito for yourself, here are some buy links:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble

Totally Bound

All Romance
An All Romance Best Seller!

Miranda’s blood roared in her ears. Here was the answer to her question. Lucy was clearly aroused by the sight, the thought, of women having sex with each other. Almost without thinking, she slid off the sofa and kneeled on the carpet next to her friend. “You are a nasty little girl, Lucy,” she murmured, taking Lucy’s head in both hands and pulling their mouths together into a wet, probing kiss.

She felt Lucy’s body stiffen briefly, as if in surprise. Then her friend opened her mouth and welcomed Miranda’s tongue. Miranda sensed hands, Lucy’s hands, exploring her, tracing the line of her hips, cupping her breasts, delicately fingering her nipples. So, Lucy—I was right about you.

Miranda reached behind Lucy’s neck and unfastened the button that held the two sides of the halter top together. Still deep in the kiss, she peeled the velvet dress down Lucy’s form, exposing the blonde’s firm breasts. Her eyes were closed, but she had seen Lucy unclothed. She could imagine the peach-smooth skin swelling up, the rose-hued nipples straining forward, aching for a touch. She caught one of them between her first and second fingers. It nestled there, in the sensitive place where the fingers met, driving her crazy. She applied a bit of pressure and felt the nubbin of flesh swell and harden further. Lucy gave a low moan.

I’ll bet she is really wet, thought Miranda. Without releasing the captured nipple, she slipped her other hand under Lucy’s skirt. She expected to find damp undergarments. Instead, her fingers touched slick, hot, hairless flesh.

A bolt of excitement shot through her. She’s as much a slut as I am. Without preamble, she sank her middle finger deep into the other woman’s cunt and swirled it in a circle. Lucy’s muscles clenched around the intruding finger. Miranda probed deeper, forcing those muscles to relax. Inside, Lucy was like drenched velvet, smooth as a dream, hot as molten lava. The sensation almost made Miranda swoon. Meanwhile, Lucy collapsed backwards onto the pillow. She lay there, thighs wide, dress crumpled around her waist, eyes shut, hands frantically kneading her own breasts.

Saturday, April 23, 2016

A House Full of Music (#romance #rock #romance)

By Janie Franz (Guest Blogger)

Music is a huge part of my life. My new novel, Sugar Magnolia, offers homage to the artists who make the songs come alive.



Music journalist and artist Shivaun Corbin is on assignment at Sugar Magnolia, the Mississippi home of classic rocker Daniel Madux. She has been charged with creating a retro cover for Daniel’s latest album, a comeback CD that incorporates a more modern sound with his 70s rock. When she enters the household on this sprawling plantation, she encounters an odd assortment of characters with secrets of their own while she works hard to avoid being another of Daniel Madux’s conquests. Young instrumental protégé Connor is determined to protect Shivaun from Daniel’s pursuit. Shivaun is distracted by Connor’s attentions and those of one of the female backup singers as more secrets are revealed and the past comes rushing into the present. Sugar Magnolia offers an inside look at the music industry and one woman’s place in it.

I wish to thank Peter Himberger, of Impact Artist Management, Mac Rebennack (Dr. John), and Joe Lopez (Deploi) for allowing me to portray them in this work of fiction. I have the utmost respect for Dr. John and Deploi and hope their appearances here are an enhancement to their musical canon.

And, a special thanks to all of the musicians I’ve interviewed throughout my career as a music journalist. I’m privileged to have had relaxed conversations with all of you.

Excerpt

Shivaun caught her breath when she saw the massive, four-posted bed tucked behind the door, draped in a white voile canopy with white, bed linens. A pair of bedside tables, also painted white, flanked the bed. There was no closet, but double French doors led out onto an iron-railed balcony.

Part of Shivaun rejected the fussy, feminine frills that were a part of the clichéd Southern charm tourists came to expect of the region. Still, it was a lovely room with its beige wallpaper with clusters of tiny red roses.

Shivaun set her camera and purse on the bed and propped her laptop case on the floor against the night table closest to the door. She moved around the large bed to fling open the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony. Oaks and willows along a muddy river framed a well-mowed lawn, stretching all around her. The garden shrubbery that dotted its surface needed pruning, and the blue hydrangeas, surrounding two concrete benches by the river, needed weeding. In the middle of the lawn, a nude sculpture of a young woman, with well-developed breasts, spouted water into an algae covered pool.

That’s Daniel Madux’s virgin,” Connor said near her. “Probably the only one left.”

Shivaun jerked her head to look at him as he lounged against the rail beside her, looking over her head at the garden. “The sculpture or virgins?”

Connor shrugged. “Nothing remains pure around Daniel Madux,” he muttered, still staring out at the sculpture.

Shivaun raised an eyebrow. Seeing he wasn’t going to explain, she returned to her bedroom. “It’s very nice,” she told Madge. “It’s rather like the years passed over this place, like it could still be 1865.”

It’s a great place to get away from everything,” Madge said. “That’s why Daniel likes it so much.”

When do I get to meet the man?”

Later, after you get settled. He’s out wandering the grounds, trying to collect his head. He partied pretty hard last night.”

She should have been prepared for that. She had been warned. She wasn’t sure how long they would let her be a voyeur, though. Her hard-drinking friends at the magazine didn’t like her sitting out their binges. Trying to be casual, she pulled out a stick of gum from her pocket, unwrapped it, and asked, “Drugs?”

Beer and pot are all Daniel allows,” Conner explained as Shivaun rolled the gum into a circle and popped it in her mouth. “Occasionally, we get some local moonshine, but that stuff’s hard to come by. Daniel says if we use anything else, we can’t create…. He’s got a few more rules he’ll lay down when you meet him.”

Madge headed for the door. “We better let you get settled. The john’s across the hall. Sometimes, you have to bang on the door to get the room cleared…. Somebody’ll come for you when Daniel’s presentable.”

Fine. I’m still living in another time zone and another climate. It’ll take me a bit to get used to the heat and the humidity here.”

As Connor followed Madge out the door, he called back, “Maybe we could have a toke together later.”

Thanks, but no.” Shivaun smiled. “I quit smoking—anything—a long time ago. Gum’s my only vice now.”

Only?” Connor asked. “You know I’ve got a coffee pot down there that’s more fun than you are.”

Shivaun gave him a big-sister look. “I came to work, not play.”

Connor swept his gaze over her body. “Yep. You’re a hybrid tea rose. It’s a damn shame…. Listen, if you’re hungry, come on down to the kitchen. I’m throwing something together for later anyway.”

She smiled at his invitation and thanked him as he left. Alone, Shivaun sat on the edge of the bed and began to worry. She got some really hard intel from an ex-roadie whose sole job had been to procure more than weed for Daniel Madux and his hangers-on. There had been coke and crystal meth and all sorts of prescription drugs. The guy did say Daniel cleaned up two or three years ago. But if Daniel were still using something, he could be one lost weekend away from spiraling down into that toilet again. Of course, getting detoxed would explain the year-long gap in his tour schedules she’d noticed.

Beer and pot. Who said pot anymore? These people didn’t behave like musicians she’d worked with before. They seemed to be players in a 70s sit-com, all caricatures of the music scene. The rest of them had to be as strange as these two.

How could she put up with this crazy household for almost a week?

Buy Links:




 
The characters were… well, hilarious! The cheeky bare a$$ed bass player/cook was just one of the characters that got me giggling. You’ll love Mama, the Reverend and all the others. Secrets unravel and things rapidly spiral out of control as the reader is taken along for the ride. If you want to journey into the world of retro rock stars you’ll enjoy this tale and it appears the author is very familiar with the music scene having reported on it as a journalist for many years.”

~ Killarney Sheffield, historical romance author.


About Janie Franz

Janie Franz comes from a long line of Southern liars and storytellers. She told other people’s stories as a freelance journalist for many years. With Texas wedding DJ, Bill Cox, she co-wrote The Ultimate Wedding Ceremony Book and The Ultimate Wedding Reception Book, and then self-published a writing manual, Freelance Writing: It’s a Business, Stupid! She also published an online music publication, was an agent/publicist for a groove/funk band, a radio announcer, and a yoga/relaxation instructor.

Currently, she is writing her twelfth novel and a self-help book, Standing Strong: Becoming a Woman of Power---Honoring unexpected changes in our lives




Friday, April 22, 2016

If it ain't broke... (#bdsm #eroticromance #giveaway)

By Ashe Barker (Guest Blogger)

Thank you for inviting me over today to chat about the re-release of The Dark Side. This series was my first attempt to write anything more steamy than a birthday card and I was delighted with it. I’ll always be proud of how well the books did and the fabulous reviews they received. I am eternally grateful to Totally Bound for accepting them and for taking a chance on the unpublished rookie I was back then.

So, if it ain’t broke, why mend it?

As I wrote The Dark Side I had no idea if anyone but me would ever read the books. I knew next to nothing about the world of publishing or professional writing, so although my editor did a fabulous job of making the books fit to be seen among decent folk (or should that be indecent folk?) there were always aspects of the story I felt could be improved. There were scenes I thought about writing but left out, and ways in which I believed the connection between Nathan and Eva could be deepened. The re-release was a rare opportunity to have my time again and complete the job.

There’s new content in each of the three books, but I won’t spoil it by saying exactly what. Suffice it to say we see yet another quirk in Eva’s already complex nature, and aspects of Nathan which I hope will endear him to readers even more. He’s a hard Dom, stern, demanding and insanely sexy. We lose none of that, but the additional content helps to bring out his caring nature a little more.

There’s also a whole new epilogue to conclude the story. This picks up a loose end which always bothered me so I feel the series is better rounded now.



Series Blurb

The Dark Side trilogy charts the sensual journey of academic musician Eva Byrne as she struggles to overcome painful shyness, sexual inhibition and personal tragedy. Lonely, unsophisticated, desperately seeking love and approval, Eva is easy prey for sensual and experienced Nathan Darke.
He wants her submission, and he knows how to go about getting it. Eva is quickly caught up by the whirlwind of his effortless seduction, though she has her own reasons for agreeing to join him in his world of pain and pleasure, on the dark side.
Inexplicably fascinated and at the same time totally frustrated by his new submissive, Nathan is increasingly drawn to her as she opens up in his hands and he realises there is much, much more to his latest playmate than he ever could have imagined.
The Dark Side charts the turbulent relationship between Eva and Nathan as their mutual fascination builds. They both discover what surrender truly means as together they explore the fragile bonds of desire, trust, risk and reward, and the destructive power of betrayal.

Darkening, Book 1 in The Dark Side Serial

Who knows where pain ends and pleasure begins?

The chance of a new life out in the wilds of the Yorkshire moors sounds too good to be true to shy musician Eva Byrne. Stifled and smothered within the cocoon of her brilliant academic career, Eva yearns for something different. Something real and exciting. Something she can feel.

Excitement. Passion. Pleasure. She finds that sexy, enigmatic Nathan Darke can provide all these and more when she moves into his home as violin tutor to his young daughter. But Eva’s sensual encounters with her demanding, domineering new employer quickly evoke her deepest fears, as he introduces her to the trauma of submission and marks her with his particularly dark brand of love.

But will Eva’s natural curiosity and thirst for new experiences be enough to withstand the sting of Nathan Darke’s exquisite touch? Will simple surrender be enough as he challenges her every inhibition, taking her on an erotic journey of self-discovery and liberation?

Darker, Book 2 in The Dark Side Serial

Can Eva outrun the secrets of her past, or is surrender her only choice?

Eva Byrne’s first encounter with the darker side of Nathan Darke’s sensuality ends in disaster. Frightened, hurt, betrayed, she struggles to regather her shattered confidence—in him, and in herself.

Desperate to continue her journey of exploration and self-discovery, Eva has to convince a skeptical Nathan that she’s worth the trouble. And that she can learn to submit to him. When she is forced to reveal elements of her past she has preferred to keep hidden, both her brilliance and her vulnerability are laid bare. Will Nathan accept Eva as she is, and help her to become the woman she longs to be, or will she face yet another rejection?

Terrified and intrigued in equal measure, Nathan has no idea how to deal with the exquisitely enigmatic Eva Byrne. Should he cut his losses and run, or allow their relationship to continue, and watch as Eva’s delicate beauty unfurls in his hands?

Fascinated and ensnared by Nathan, Eva longs to taste what he offers and her erotic journey continues. But how much will she have to surrender to him in order to liberate her own desires?

Darkest, Book 3 in The Dark Side Serial


When his past destroys Eva’s trust in her Master, can he win her back?

As their turbulent, complex relationship deepens, Nathan Darke is increasingly aware that Eva Byrne has become much more to him than his submissive. She’s in his home, in his family. And in his heart.

Eva hasn’t found it easy to trust, to believe in herself and in a relationship that might last. But happiness, once so elusive, is within her grasp. Nathan is her Master, her lover and her soulmate.

However, no sooner do they manage to find a fragile balance between them—a way of entwining both their worlds—and start to build a future than their past comes crashing back to destroy their emerging love. Jealousy and hate brutally shatter Eva’s and Nathan’s delicate trust in each other, and their life together crumbles.

Can they overcome the crushing pain of betrayal and deceit to regain some sort of future together, or are some wounds just too deep to heal? Are some risks too great? Some rewards just not enough? 



Excerpt from Darkening

He breaks the kiss to start nibbling his way down my neck. As if not finding the angle to his liking, he suddenly, effortlessly lifts me from the chair, turns and lays me down with my bare back flat on the table top. He holds both of my wrists in one hand, pinning them to the table above my head and, standing between my legs, leans over to look down at me, stroking his other hand the length of my body from neck to waist.

Beautiful… Holy fuck, so lovely,” he murmurs before he leans down to take my right nipple between his lips.

I squeal, the shock jolting through me even though I had sensed what he was about to do. His body weight and his hand around my wrists hold me in place as he continues his work. The sensation is everywhere, starting at my nipple, which is now painfully engorged. The tingling pulses radiate out through my whole body, connecting as if by some sort of internal electric current to that spot between my legs, which is now drenched. It feels exquisite, acute, intense, forbidden and overwhelming. I arch my back, pushing my breasts toward his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, this source of ecstatic pleasure.

One or two ill-fated fumblings from other students when I was a teenager at university did nothing to prepare me for this. I have never, ever felt anything remotely like this before. I might have read about it, known the theoretical possibility was out there, somewhere. Happening to other women—women who were attractive and had lush, sexy bodies and soft, wavy hair. But this is here, now, happening to me.

I feel the hard table beneath my shoulder blades as I writhe under his skilled lips, his expert tongue and teeth, desperate for more. And he knows what he is about—he knows what I need and he has more for me. Opening his mouth wider, he takes more of my breast in and sucks hard, first one side then the other. He slides his free hand, palm up, between my shoulders and the table to raise me up, giving him easier access with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth. Gently grazing my now helplessly sensitized nipples with his teeth, he suckles me relentlessly, nipping slightly harder, just enough to hurt, maybe—I’m not sure where pain ends and pleasure begins now. What does it matter, anyway? He can do whatever he wants to me as long as he doesn’t stop.

He is no longer holding my wrists—he has no need to because I’m lying boneless under him, spread across his kitchen table, pleading wordlessly for…for what? More? Less? The ecstatic pleasure tinged with a hint of pain is so intense now that I can only moan, ride the waves of sensation pulsing from my breasts out through my fingers and toes, each wave bigger, heavier, more compelling than the one before until I am writhing with need.

I can’t. Please, it’s too much…” Is that me? Or someone else whimpering nearby?

Yes, you can, you are. Don’t fight it, sweetheart, come for me. Now. Come now.” His words—insistent, soft and low, seductive—are breathed into my ear before he returns to my breasts, nibbling and sucking mercilessly, building the tension, increasing the sensations coursing through every part of me, winding me tighter and tighter until I burst, screaming out loud as fireworks explode in my head, my groin, everywhere as the earth shifts beneath me. My inner core clenches violently, the wetness surely flooding across the table. I feel I am falling, floating as the tension is released and I hear myself moan in delighted satisfaction, drifting back down toward reality.

Me, the girl who can’t bear to be touched. Somehow—God only knows how it happened—I have just spent the last ten minutes spread out half naked on Nathan Darke’s kitchen table, his hands and mouth all over me until I totally lost control, and he watched me thrashing about in the throes of my very first orgasm, right in front of him. Christ! How wonderful, how intimate. How unlike me. And he’s achieved all this without so much as a button of his coming undone.

Buy Links

Darkening is FREE at Totally Bound and All Romance 
until 30 April 2016!!




About Ashe Barker



I’ve been an avid reader of fiction for many years, erotic and other genres. I still love reading, the hotter the better. But now I have a good excuse for my guilty pleasure – research.

I tend to draw on my own experience to lend colour, detail and realism to my plots and characters. An incident here, a chance remark there, a bizarre event or quirky character, any of these can spark a story idea.

I live in the North of England, on the edge of the Brontë moors. When not writing – which is not very often these days - my time is divided between my role as resident taxi driver for my teenage daughter, and caring for a menagerie of dogs, tortoises. And a very grumpy cockatiel.

I have over thirty titles on general release with publishers on both sides of the Atlantic, and I have several more in the pipeline. I write M/f, M/M, and occasionally ring the changes with a little M/M/f. All my books feature BDSM. I write explicit stories, always hot, but they offer far more than just sizzling sex. I like to read about complex characters, and compelling plots, so that’s what I write too.

I have a pile of story ideas still to work through, and keep thinking of new ones at the most unlikely moments, so you can expect to see a lot more from me.


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Thursday, April 21, 2016

Help a fellow author facing homelessness (#ASMSG #donate #MFRWAuthor )

[This is a repost from my colleague Barb Caffrey Please offer what help you can! ~ Lisabet] 


Folks, one of the reasons I’ve been cagey for months here at my blog is because I’ve been enduring hardship. I can’t go into that many details as most of them are not mine to tell; all I can tell you is that in seven days, I am going to lose my home. And I need immediate help to relocate, get set back up on my feet, and to continue to create — because my goodness, CHANGING FACES is due shortly.

All of this upheaval is not conducive to creativity, to put it mildly. But I need somehow to get it done anyway.

Of course, I don’t know how I get all this done. Right now, I feel overwhelmed, overmatched, and extremely frustrated. I have tried very hard in my current situation to make everything right, and yet I could not do it.

I’m hamstrung in many ways trying to explain what’s going on right now. It’s a crisis situation. In seven days, the place I’m living will be sold…and I can do nothing whatsoever about it.

That much, I think I can say.

As anyone who regularly reads my blog knows, my health isn’t tiptop. I manage a number of health conditions, including carpal tunnel syndrome, asthma, allergies, and at least six others. I also must bring along with me my thirteen-year-old dog Trouble, as he’s my true friend and I refuse to leave him behind…he’s not always the best-behaved dog (thus his name), but I love him, and he loves me.

Anyway, I’ve set up a Patreon page. I’m asking for $4400 for help in relocating; this is a three-month projection of what I will need. Over time, I figure I’ll need about $1200 a month to live as my needs are small…an internet connection, a safe space to work, write, and edit, a good place for Trouble to take a walk perhaps…some serenity, because I surely don’t have any right now.

At Patreon, people offer things in exchange for support called “rewards” — I assume so we artists, writers, and creators don’t have to feel bad about asking for help. I’ve offered four things: “Trouble with Elfs” for anyone who helps me; if you pledge $5 per month, the reward is Michael’s original versions of “Columba and the Committee;” if you pledge $10 per month, the rewards is Michael’s original version of “Columba and the Crossing;” if you pledge $25 per month, I’ll send you the original version of Michael’s novel MAVERICK, LIEUTENANT…I don’t think he’d mind.

I intend to keep on writing, keep on creating, keep on doing the best I possibly can. But what I’m faced with right now is a disaster…I need to keep mind, body and soul together while I figure out what my next move is.

I implore you, please help me to do just that. Go to my Patreon page. Anything will help.


I’d also appreciate your prayers, good thoughts, warm wishes, and any job leads you think may be beneficial. I am an excellent editor with references; I am a solid writer who tells entertaining stories; I know how to research, to do administrative work, understand most computers to a certain extent…I’m hard-working, dedicated, resourceful, and persistent.

Thank you for reading, and I wish I hadn’t had to write this whatsoever.

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Intimate Ink (#tattoo #erotica #sexylittlepages)

By Anna Sky (Guest Blogger)

Tattoos have always been a source of fascination for me. And editing an anthology full of sexy tattoo stories has proved very self-indulgent! Admittedly, I did shudder a bit reading about how they dont grow out, and also, as someone who has a small-because-theyre-a-wimp tattoo, the thought of the pain is a complete turn-off.

However, the psychology of tattoos is a different matter – from rebellion against the norm, to showing someone is part of a group, they’re used across a huge range of contexts and cultures. I come from a background where tattoos are frowned upon; once my mother learned of the tattoo on my lower back (gained in my early twenties), she suggested never letting any employer ever know as I’d be out of a job. My last employer had far more tattoos and piercings than I’ll ever have, goodness only knows what my mother thought of him!

I came across medical research describing how tattoos help strengthen the immune system, that red ink is more likely to cause skin reactions and allergies and that tattooing can form part of reconstructive nipple surgery.

There’s some fascinating videos available on older people being inked for the first time and the effect of age on ink. And a couple of videos really made me appreciate the artistry involved, and the trust between artist and client – of course they can go horribly wrong, but there is some beautiful artwork out there, whether hidden under clothing or on show, there are some true living canvasses.

Of course, I spent hours ogling Googling tattoo images too; one of my favourites has to beMuch tattooed sailor aboard the USS New Jersey, dated 1944. Theres a tenderness between the two men shown and the tattoos themseves definitely tell a story



My research also led to thinking about D/s relationships and tattoos – whether a subtle (or in some cases, not so subtle) mark of ownership or a more intimate message between people engaged in powerplay.

Tattoos don’t have to be permanent either – I used to love play tattoos. There was a certain magic of applying it to my skin, soaking the paper and then pretending I was inked to see what it felt like. Play without the pain indeed! And permanent markers are also a source of fun; my partner and I recently ended up having a marker pen fight in the bedroom and it was erm… interesting, resulting in me being covered in rude words and him a few splotches!



Book Blurb

Tattoos are intimate and personal, yet can hide as much as they reveal...

This superb collection of erotic stories will have you squirming in your seat! Inked contains first tattoos in “Company Ink” and first times in “Scissoring”. An intrepid ink artist crosses galaxies to save mankind in “The Voron-Kali Emperor's New Clothes” whilst closer to home, a sub make a lifetime promise to her Master in “Commitment”.

In “Venomous Ink”, a vibrant tattoo shows there's much more than meets the eye whilst an art student longs to ink the object of her desire with her permanent markers, in “Sign Your Name”. An uptight commuter finds herself attracted to her polar opposite in “Uncovering Heather”, while the ultimate Dom looks to get what he deserves in “Her Midnight Roses”.

And in “Nine Lives”, a top tattoo artist has never forgotten one particular customer and when they reconnect, she discovers he has new ink for each new life.

Edited by Anna Sky, Inked contains nine sexy and provocative stories from Gregory L. Norris, Annabeth Leong, Victoria Blisse, Zak Jane Keir, Harley Easton, Jillian Boyd, Alain Bell, Lilya Loring and Katya Harris.

Excerpt (from “Venemous Ink” by Alain Bell)

Scarlett snaps out of her memories to concentrate on her work. Thinking about the woman that way could only lead to trouble. With a capital T. She will remain professional, no matter the attraction. She's almost done with the lifelike blue Malaysian coral snake. Its five-foot length seems to slither along Amalie's form, tail resting near her right hip and dipping under the sacral pattern as it moves low across her abdomen. The rest of its body weaves around the existing art, and over her right breast to curve back and spiral around her left. The head she's working on finishes with its mouth open, fangs poised to bite her nipple.

The thrusting of Amalie's hips increases as the needles sting her areola. Somehow, even in her subspace, the woman controls herself so only her fast deep breathing moves her chest while her pelvis pumps and rotates with abandon.

Nearly complete, Scarlett takes another break. All that remains are the fangs. The ink Amalie supplied shimmers with so much vibrancy that the scales seem alive. If it wasn't impossible, she would swear that the snake is breathing. It must be the movement of the writhing woman.

She gives Amalie another sip that the woman sucks down without any indication of being aware she's doing so. There are only two nuggets remaining of the savory-sweet teriyaki chicken. She snags one with her fork and eats it, amazed at how the flavors are still incredible after the eleven hours of grueling work.

Scarlett doesn't speak, but when she begins the painful white inking of the fangs Amalie begins chanting. What Scarlett hears makes no sense and she almost falters. The chanting sounds like mathematics. Amalie's tone is reverent, and her cadence musical, almost like she's praying, but the language is formulae and numbers.

Scarlett continues her art. The light rhythmic voice of the woman under her gun fills Scarlett with energy and comfort. The sound spurs her on and creativity flows through her fingers.

The instant the needle strikes the last drop of white into the perfect pale skin, Amalie screams. The scream isn't one of pain, but of someone having a shattering orgasm. Scarlett pushes her stool back as the scent of sex permeates the small room and the woman on the table loses her iron control and writhes in sensuous pleasure.

Then the impossible happens, Scarlett drops her tattoo gun. The snake writhes a single path around Amalie's body before returning to its home in the exact position she placed it. She blinks but the snake doesn't move again.

She rubs over her eyes and looks once more. It's still just a tattoo. Maybe eleven hours is too much for one sitting.

Where to Buy

Print:
eBook:


About Anna Sky



Anna Sky is chief-editor for Sexy Little Pages and an erotica writer to boot. Shes been published by multiple presses and has selfpublished several of her own anthologies, one of which has even been quoted in a PhD thesis for short-story form! Apart from that shes (in no particular order) a geek, red wine drinker, poi hurler, Firefly fan, has a very dirty laugh and loves to perform research for her stories!


About Sexy Little Pages


Sexy Little Pages is a sex-positive publishing venture that supports and promotes independent erotica authors and editors. As a society we’re ashamed of sex and sexuality but we should celebrate it. Sex is an integral part of life, whether it’s fun, filthy, flirtatious, unfulfilling, an escape from reality or something else entirely. Our needs, expectations and fantasies are all different so we aim to publish for everybody and every body, across the whole delicious spectrum of genders, abilities, and desires.