Wednesday, December 25, 2019
Tuesday, December 24, 2019
Santa discovers that naughty is nice! #NewRelease #HolidayErotica #NaughtySanta
Just
in time for Christmas – barely! – I have another holiday story
to entertain you. Santa, Baby! is light-hearted,
no-holds-barred, no-strings-attached erotica, in the style of my
Vegas Babes series (though this is a stand-alone title, set in
Manhattan).
If
the eggnog has you feeling frisky – if you crave something more
exciting than a mistletoe kiss – join Matt on his erotic holiday
adventure.
Blurb
Recent university grad Matt Glaser may not have the Santa Claus beard or belly, but when it comes to earning extra holiday cash, it's a case of 'ho ho ho, let's start the show'—he loves his red suit like a reindeer loves carrots. This potential client, though—classy, curvy Eleanor Danforth—seems more interested in checking out his butt than his references. And two grand for a private party? Oy vey, Prancer, something's not kosher about this particular Vixen. She's not one to be denied, though. When the interview takes a carnal turn, he finds he’s unexpectedly eager to satisfy the demanding older woman.
Wearing
the provocative costume supplied by his employer, Matt arrives at the
Danforths’ swanky apartment to discover he’s been cast as the
emcee for Eleanor’s intimate gathering. His duties include managing
a pair of scantily-clad blond elves, distributing decadent treats to
guests who’ve been good, and meting out punishments to the naughty.
Meanwhile, the mistress of the house has a Christmas gift especially
for him—one made of silicon and leather straps, which requires
plenty of lube. Ho ho ho, Matt! It's going to be a very merry
Christmas indeed.
Exclusive
Excerpt
“I
believe it’s time for our Santa to do his duty,” said Eleanor.
“Take your seat, Matt.” She pointed at an armchair to the right
of the tree. It was draped in red and green and garlanded with
tinsel. A large canvas bag sat on the floor beside the chair, half
open. Brightly wrapped boxes were visible inside.
Wondering
what would come next, I settled myself in the sturdy, comfortable
chair.
“Anyone
who wants a gift must submit to Santa’s inquiry,” she continued.
“If Santa determines that you’ve behaved well, you will be
rewarded with one of these presents. If he decides that you’ve been
bad, however, you’ll be punished.”
An
awkward silence fell over the group.
“How
do you define ‘bad’?” asked the younger of Mr. Danforth’s
friends.
“Arnie,
you’re my lawyer—we know you’ve been bad!” Danforth drained
his eggnog, then refilled his glass.
“Perhaps
I should use the word ‘naughty’ rather than ‘bad’.” Eleanor
looked around the room. “I think we understand what I mean.”
“And
who administers the punishment?” asked the stocky gentleman on
Danforth’s other side.
“I
shall punish the men. We’ll let Santa take care of the ladies.”
Jane
and Delilah exchanged a smoldering look.
“So,
shall we begin? Who will be first?”
Another
silence. I wondered whether Eleanor’s guests were as enthusiastic
as she was about her games.
Betsy
raised her hand. “I’ll go first!”
Eleanor
gave a little frown. “But you’re an elf. I expect you to help
with the rewards and punishments.”
The
curvy blonde raised her pointed little chin. “Elves can be naughty,
too,” she said.
“Very
well—as a way to break the ice, you may go first. Climb up on
Santa’s lap.”
With
undisguised eagerness, Betsy clambered onto my knees. Her pussy
dampened my bare thighs. As she settled herself, she rubbed her bum
back and forth across my aching hard-on. I gritted my teeth, knowing
that Eleanor wouldn’t be pleased if the little hussy made me come.
When
the elf was finally quiet, I turned her head so I could gaze into her
sparkling blue eyes. “So, little girl,” I said, making my voice
deeper without thinking about it. “Have you been good this year?”
The
script came easily, the lines I’d used in year after year of
Christmas gigs. I fell into the part, a sense of my own benevolence
spreading through me.
“Yes,
Santa. I’ve been very good.” She grinned and squirmed against my
rigid cock, fully aware of the effects this produced.
“Hmm.”
I stroked my beard theatrically. “I’m not sure I believe you,
little girl. Are you sure you haven’t been naughty?”
“No…no,
Santa, I’ve been good.”
“You
haven’t done anything…dirty? Like touching yourself?”
“Um…uh,
no…”
“Or
letting someone else touch you? Have you let those nasty boys see
your panties?”
“I
don’t usually wear panties, Santa.”
“Oh,
my! That’s very naughty.”
“But
panties aren’t comfortable… and if I wear them, my girlfriend—oh!
I didn’t mean that…”
“Your
girlfriend! Does she touch you?” I adopted a stern tone. Images of
the two women having sex in the kitchen ran through my mind.
Betsy
looked slightly panicked. “Only sometimes… only a little…and it
feels so good…”
“Naughty!”
I thundered. “Definitely naughty. No present for you.”
“But
Santa…”
The
eyes of Eleanor’s guests were all glued to the tableau in Santa’s
chair. Henry, Jane, Delilah, the other guys, all seemed to be holding
their breath.
“You
deserve to be punished. A good hard spanking is what you need.” I
couldn’t believe what I was saying. I’d never spanked anyone in
his life, had never thought about it. Now, though, my dick surged at
the idea of raining blows on this minx’s bare ass.
Buy
Links
Amazon
US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B082ZTHVKJ
Amazon
UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B082ZTHVKJ
Barnes
and Noble – coming soon
Kobo
– coming soon
Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/49763700-santa-baby-a-naughty-holiday-fantasy
Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/49763700-santa-baby-a-naughty-holiday-fantasy
Get
your copy today so you can enjoy it as part of the holiday
festivities!
Monday, December 23, 2019
A Reverse Harem for the Holidays - (@cw1985) #reverseharem #whychoose #kindleunlimited
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Sunday, December 22, 2019
Charity Sunday: Habitat for Humanity - #Shelter #SweatEquity #CharitySunday
Welcome to the final Charity Sunday for 2019!
Lots
of us go home for the holidays in December. That got me thinking
about the whole idea of “home”. What would life be like without
safe, comfortable shelter? A roof over our heads, doors to keep out
intruders, windows to view the world?
There
are way too many people in today’s world who don’t have this kind
of home – people who live in shacks or tents, shanty town slums or
abandoned garbage bins. At this time of gathering together, I’ve
chosen to support Habitat for
Humanity, an organization dedicated to building homes for those
who need them.
You
may already be aware of Habitat’s work. They work through local
affiliates, volunteers who raise money, acquire materials, and work
with the intended residents to build new shelter. What makes Habitat
special, though, is that it doesn’t build homes for the
people who will occupy them. Habitat builds
with those people. A core concept in
Habitat’s approach is the idea of “sweat equity”. To receive
help from Habitat, you have to be willing to invest your own labor.
You must make a commitment, learn the necessary skills, put in the
time and the energy to help create the home of which you dream.
I
really love this notion. People value the fruits of their own
efforts. Furthermore, Habitat’s beneficiaries, by learning how to
build, can help others in their communities do the same.
Anyway,
for every comment I receive on this post, I’ll donate $2 to
Habitat.
Meanwhile, here’s an excerpt from my holiday erotic romance Almost Home, which takes place in a New England home very much like the one where I used to live.
Meanwhile, here’s an excerpt from my holiday erotic romance Almost Home, which takes place in a New England home very much like the one where I used to live.
The
mug of tea cupped in her hands chased the last bit of numbness from
Suzanne’s fingers. Propped up on a couch in Gino’s spacious
kitchen, swaddled in quilts, she watched him toss another log on the
roaring fire. He moved with easy grace, a man at home in his own
skin.
The
heat from the blaze matched the desire simmering in her belly. She
felt her body expanding, unfolding. Her tension and fear evaporated.
In their place came delicious comfort edged with arousal. Gino poked
at the glowing timbers piled on the hearth. She admired the line of
his broad back and the curve of his buttocks under the stretched
denim.
“Gino,”
she called softly. “Come here.”
He
gave her a smile that rivalled the blaze he tended. “Suzanne?” He
sauntered over to sit beside her half-prone form. “How are you
feeling?”
“Much
better, thanks to you. I don’t know what would have happened if you
hadn’t come along.” She grasped his hand, entwining their
fingers. He laid his other hand on top. It might have just been a
gesture of friendship, but it sent sparks swirling through her. Her
nipples tightened into hungry knots.
“You
know, Suzy, I had this strange feeling. Jack and I had just settled
down to our annual game of chess—one of our traditions—when
suddenly I knew I had to leave. I told them I had a headache, and
actually, it felt a bit that way—some kind of urgent need pounding
in my skull. When I saw the car burrowed into the snow bank, I knew
right away that it was you.”
“I’m
so grateful.” He was close enough now that she could smell him,
wood smoke with an undercurrent of wintergreen. “I was pretty
scared.”
“You
should have let me drive you,” Gino scolded. “But then you always
were stubborn.” He leaned back, away from her, and released her
hand. Suzanne wanted to pull him closer. Why did he hesitate? Didn’t
he know she wanted him?
“I’ve
got to be back in California by Monday morning,” she murmured.
“Important meeting. But I don’t suppose there’s any possibility
of getting to my hotel tonight, is there?”
“Not
a snowball’s chance in hell,” Gino replied triggering a laugh
that relieved some of the strain. “The governor’s called for a
state of emergency. The Mass Pike is closed to all but emergency
vehicles. Latest forecasts say we’re going to get two feet.” He
caught her eyes as though trying to read her thoughts. “Lady,
you’re stuck here for the foreseeable future.”
Suzanne
reached for him. “In that case, why don’t you kiss me?”
He
allowed her to bring his lips within inches of hers. Then he stopped
her. “Are you sure? I got the idea back at the party that I made
you nervous. That you still weren’t interested in being more than
friends.”
“You
do make me nervous—but in a good way. I feel like a teenager when
you’re around, hot and bothered, excited and embarrassed. You’ve
always made me feel that way.”
“And
that’s good?”
“I’m
beginning to think so. Why don’t you kiss me and we can find out?”
He
didn’t need a second invitation. Sliding his hands under the
blankets, he gathered her to his chest and planted his firm lips on
hers. Even though she was expecting this kiss, it still shocked her.
Sudden heat swept through her like a forest fire. Any last
reservations burned to a crisp. He took possession of her mouth,
scarcely allowing her to take a breath. Meanwhile his hands roved
over her curves, sending waves of electric pleasure shimmering down
to her sex.
The
velvet transmitted every brush of his fingertips. She might as well
have been naked. It hardly mattered that she was wearing a bra or
panties. He rolled one brazen nipple between his thumb and
forefinger, waking tremors in her clit. She gasped into his mouth. He
cupped her damp mound through her clothing, his lips still glued to
hers. She spread her legs, begging for more, and he obliged, rubbing
the velvet back and forth along the groove of her pussy.
His
groping made her increasingly desperate. As though he read her
thoughts, he broke the kiss. “I want to see you naked,” he
breathed. “I always have.”
She
flung the quilts away and pulled her dress over her head in one fluid
motion. He watched, clearly fascinated, eyes gleaming in the
firelight. Reaching behind her, she unhooked her crimson bra and set
her ample breasts free. She cupped them like an offering, her own
hands feeling almost as wonderful on her flesh as his. He fastened
his mouth on one taut nub, pinching the other. The sight of his dark
head suckling was almost enough to make her come. Gino, she
thought, buffeted by a confusing mix of emotions. After all this
time.
Don’t
forget to leave a comment; every one means another $2 for Habitat.
And I hope you will visit the other blogs participating today.
Happy
Holidays to you and yours!
Friday, December 20, 2019
Charity Sunday snuck up on me! #signup #bloghop #CharitySunday
Image by Okan Caliskan from Pixabay
Argh! The last Charity Sunday for 2019 is scheduled for the 22nd – this Sunday – and I meant to put up the sign-up post on Wednesday. But real world work kept me away from my Lisabet life until Thursday... and then I was rushing to make sure everything was ready for my Friday guest....
Anyway
– I hope it’s not too late! You can enter the blog hop using the
Linky List below.
What’s
Charity Sunday? It’s a blog hop where different bloggers select and
support their favorite charities. We’ll give you an introduction.
Then we pledge to make a donation for every comment we receive.
Anyway,
if you’d like to participate, do the following:
-
Create your Charity Sunday post and schedule it to go live early on the 22nd;
-
Get the link to your post (not the link to your entire blog, but the specific post);
-
Click on the ‘you’re next’ link in the list below, to add your link to the list;
-
Click on the ‘get the code’ link to copy the code you need to make the link list show up on your blog. Paste it, in HTML mode, at the end of your blog.
You
can download the Charity Sunday banner here:
For
an example of a post with a list at the end, go here:
On
Sunday, you can make the event more successful by sharing on social
media. You can also help by visiting the other blogs and leaving
comments.
Thanks!
How to Write Short Stories and Get Them Published - #WritingCraft #ShortStories
By
Ashley Lister PhD
The
three greatest pleasures in life are sex, alcohol and short stories.
Of these, the short story is clearly the greatest pleasure. Alcohol
is bad for the memory. And the liver. And the memory. Sex is good,
but the fun part is over after 30 seconds. But a short story, a
really good short story, can stay with you for ever.
The
first piece of fiction I ever sold was a short story. This was back
in another century. The thrills of receiving that acceptance letter,
seeing my work in a magazine in a local newsagent, and then actually
cashing the cheque, remain bright in my mind’s eye: much like the
memories of my first encounters with sex and alcohol.
But
the cerebral pleasures of a short story go beyond what we can expect
from physical or chemical stimulation. I’ve never tasted any
bourbon that’s moved me as much as Poe or Saki. And, whilst I’m
not going to claim that The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes is
better than sex, I will point out that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s
stories have kept me enthralled for far longer than the
aforementioned 30 seconds.
Which
is why I’m such an advocate of short stories. I’ve written (and
published) more than 100 short stories. I’ve produced a PhD thesis
on the relationship between plot and genre in short fiction. I’ve
taught countless students to write short fiction and I’m proud to
say that many of them have gone on to publish their work.
The
PhD was a genuine pleasure to write. I’ve spoken to other doctoral
students who say, halfway through a PhD, it’s common to be bored
with the subject area of a thesis. I can understand this. Immersion
in a single topic, to such an excessive and exhaustive extent, does
run the risk of being overwhelming. But I was lucky. I was writing
about short stories (and the writing of short stories) and it’s a
subject that never ever grows old.
Which
is why it was so easy for me to write How to Write Short Stories
and Get Them Published. The book is filled with advice, guidance,
suggestions, examples and exercises. If you do enjoy writing short
stories, and I sincerely advocate it as a pastime and an outlet for
creativity, then you’ll want to treat yourself to a copy of my new
book, How to Write Short Stories and Get Them Published. If
you have a friend who enjoys writing short stories, you’ll want to
treat them to a copy of How to Write Short Stories and Get ThemPublished. I sincerely believe it’s essential for the library
of every writer.
The
definitive, indispensable guide to writing quality short stories and
getting them published.
Learn
to plot like a pro, master the art of suspense like Poe, craft
captivating dialogue like Twain and - most crucially - get your short
stories published.
How
to Write Short Stories and Get Them Published is the essential
guide to writing short fiction. It helps the aspiring writer at all
stages of their creative journey, from how to cultivate ideas and
express them on the page through to potential outlets for publication
and pitching proposals to publishers.
Along
the journey this guide considers the most important aspects of
creative writing, such as character, plot, point of view, description
and dialogue. All of these areas are illustrated with examples and
are accompanied by exercises that will help every writer hone their
natural skill and talent into the ability to craft compelling short
stories.
About
the Author
Ashley
Lister is the author of more than fifty books and countless short
stories. He has lectured in Creative Writing for more than a decade,
writing and running a broad range of courses. He recently completed
his PhD in Creative Writing where his thesis considers the
relationship between plot and genre in short fiction.
For
any questions, please don’t hesitate to contact the author me
[at] ashleylister [dot] co.uk
Thursday, December 19, 2019
A sexy veterinarian and a hot-headed attorney - #EroticRomance #Giveaway @SaraOhlin222
Blurb
Animals
aren’t the only thing that need rescuing when a sexy veterinarian
encounters a hot-headed attorney…
Perfectly
content saving animals at her clinic in a charming but run-down
neighborhood, veterinarian Ellie Blevins slams into new landlord,
Jackson Kincaid, who plans to turn her beloved block of buildings
into condos.
Intrigued
by Ellie, hot-shot defense attorney Jackson gives her one month to
convince him not to put his gentrification plans into progress.
Attraction soon sizzles between them, but when Jackson makes his
desires known, Ellie’s vulnerable heart doesn’t know what to
think.
She
wants to trust the sinfully handsome Jackson, just as he wants to
gain her trust, but finding their way to love isn’t easy when her
traumatic past and his criminal clients could sabotage their
relationship for good.
Can
the enchanting veterinarian and the brooding attorney fight the
demons from the past…and build a new future?
Excerpt
“It’s
not a bag of bones. It’s a block of old, historic buildings that
need love and care,” she began. But standing there, taking in his
polished rich-man strength, it was futile to convince him of
anything. “You know what? Deal me the death blow now. I’d like to
review the lease I signed before I throw in the towel and start
looking for a new space and a new home, because I can tell there’s
no way you and I will ever be on the same page.”
“New
home?”
“What?”
she said.
“You
said, ‘a new space and a new home’?”
“I
live in the apartment above the French Connection Bakery. Mr. and
Mrs. Heely have owned it for twenty-five years.” There she was,
exhausted-sharing again. And there he stood intense-staring. She
closed her eyes at the craziest, weirdest conversation she’d ever
had, and realized Chewie was asleep on her chest with his tiny head
nuzzled in her neck. Oh, soft love, she thought, if only people were
more like dogs, so trusting, kind, and loving.
“One
month,” he said.
“One
month to be out of—”
“I’ll
give you one month to try to convince me.”
“I…
What?”
“You
spend time with me for the next month. We get to know each other, and
you can state your case.”
“Spend
time with you?” Is he insane?
“You
said you wanted to try to convince me to change my mind.”
“Oh,”
she whispered.
About
the Author
Puget
Sound based writer Sara Ohlin is a mom, wannabe photographer,
obsessive reader, ridiculous foodie, and the author of the
contemporary romance novels, Handling the Rancher, Salvaging Love and
the upcoming contemporary romance Seducing the Dragonfly.
She
has over fifteen years of creative non-fiction and memoir writing
experience, and you can find her essays at Anderbo.com, Feminine
Collective, Mothers Always Write, Her View from Home, and in
anthologies such as Are We Feeling Better Yet? Women Speak about
Healthcare in America, Take Care: Tales, Tips, & Love from Women
Caregivers, and Chicken Soup for the Soul.
Although
she’s the author of many essays about life, grief, motherhood and
the connections we make through delicious food and shared meals, Sara
loves creating imaginary worlds with tight-knit communities in her
romance novels. She credits her mother, Mary, Nora Roberts and
Rosamunde Pilcher for her love of romance.
If
she’s not reading or writing, you will most likely find her in the
kitchen creating scrumptious meals with her two kids and amazing
husband, or perhaps cooking up her next love story.
She
once met a person who both “didn’t read books” and wasn’t
“that into food” and it nearly broke her heart. You can learn
more on her website https://saraohlin.com.
Website:
https://saraohlin.com
Twitter
https://twitter.com/SaraOhlin222
Instagram
= http://www.instagram.com/saraohlin222
Facebook
= https://www.facebook.com/saraohlinwriter/
Pinterest
= http://www.pinterest.com/saraohlin/
Buy
Links
Totally
Bound https://www.totallybound.com/book/salvaging-love
Sara
is giving away a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to one lucky reader during
the tour.
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