Her Secret Ingredient - Lisabet Sarai

Her Secret Ingredient – M/F/M BDSM Erotic Romance from Lisabet Sarai

Available 15 November from Totally Bound: https://www.totallybound.com/her-secret-ingredient

Buy from Totally Bound and get a sizzling extra chapter, available only to TB VIP readers!

Her Secret Ingredient by Lisabet Sarai

Stir in a pinch to stir up his passion

When the Tastes of France food channel offers Mei Lee “Emily” Wong a series of guest spots, she jumps at the opportunity to take her culinary career to a whole new level. Ultimately, she wants a show of her own, but first she has to prove herself to Michelin-starred network founder and effective dictator, Etienne Duvalier. A legend in the world of classic French cuisine as well as a domineering perfectionist, Etienne is sceptical about the culinary abilities of a woman from Hong Kong. To make things more difficult, the master chef is also so gorgeous that Emily can't help being attracted to him.

Emily tries to solve both problems by spiking her luscious profiteroles with an ancient Oriental aphrodisiac. Unfortunately, Harry Sanborne, the low-key, bespectacled producer for Emily's show, samples the delicacies she intends for Etienne's consumption. His powerful reaction to her secret ingredient comes as a pleasant surprise to them both. Harry turns out to be far more impressive in bed than on the set. However, he can't do nearly as much to advance her ambitions as Etienne. Emily tries once more to tempt the exacting M. Duvalier with her special cooking as well as her feminine charms. The outrageous results threaten to end her TV career forever - until Harry steps in to save her reputation and claim her heart.

From the Book 

The road dead-ended in a parking lot, empty save for our vehicle. He helped me out of the car and walked me over to the iron railing guarding the overlook. The night was crystal clear. Not a wisp of fog obscured the twinkling majesty of the City by the Bay.

I grasped the balustrade, a bit nervous about the sheer drop on the other side. Standing behind me, Harry rubbed his rigid penis against my butt. Meanwhile, his hands snaked around to clasp and knead my breasts. “See what I mean?” he murmured in my ear, twisting my nipples at the same time.

“It’s—uh—it’s beautiful, Harry. But I don’t think…”

“Don’t think, Em. Just trust me.” He continued to fondle my tits with one hand, while sliding the other down over my belly to poke between my thighs. “I’ll bet you’re wet.” He probed through the jersey of my dress, finding my clit with his usual skill. “Yup, I was right. You love a bit of danger.”

“No, not really—ah!” He rocked my bead like a switch, sending spurts of electricity through my limbs. “Oh, God, Harry, we can’t do this here!”

“Why not? You let me fuck you on the studio floor the day after we met.”

“I— Oh, Harry, please…that was different…”

He had my skirt flipped up in back now, and my panties down around my knees. One hand had lodged inside the front of my dress, where he continued to squeeze my engorged breast. Meanwhile, he explored my wet crevice with nimble fingers, thrusting into my pussy, sliding over my lower lips, then making slick circles around my clit.

The smooth head of his bare cock bobbed against the backs of my thighs. How had he managed to get it out of his trousers while still teasing me this way? I reached behind me, wanting to grasp that lovely hardness and share some of my pleasure.

“No!” He caught my hand in a sticky grip and returned it to the iron pipe. “Don’t let go of the rail. Or do I have to tie you there?”

Lightning shot through me. I thought for a moment I’d faint and topple over into the abyss.

“Tie me?” Craning my neck, I tried to read his expression. Was he serious? The shadows made it impossible to tell.

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – nearly fifty single author titles, plus dozens of short stories in various erotic anthologies, including the Lambda winner Where the Girls Are and the IPPIE Best Erotic Book of 2011, Carnal Machines. Her gay scifi erotic romance Quarantine won a Rainbow Awards 2012 Honorable Mention.

Lisabet has more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by her chosen genre.  She has traveled widely and currently lives in Southeast Asia with her indulgent husband and two exceptional felines, where she pursues an alternative career that is completely unrelated to her creative writing.

For more information about Lisabet and her writing, visit her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com) or her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com)

Her Secret Ingredient - Lisabet Sarai

Her Secret Ingredient – M/F/M BDSM Erotic Romance from Lisabet Sarai

Available 15 November from Totally Bound: https://www.totallybound.com/her-secret-ingredient

Buy from Totally Bound and get a sizzling extra chapter, available only to TB VIP readers!

Her Secret Ingredient by Lisabet Sarai

Stir in a pinch to stir up his passion

When the Tastes of France food channel offers Mei Lee “Emily” Wong a series of guest spots, she jumps at the opportunity to take her culinary career to a whole new level. Ultimately, she wants a show of her own, but first she has to prove herself to Michelin-starred network founder and effective dictator, Etienne Duvalier. A legend in the world of classic French cuisine as well as a domineering perfectionist, Etienne is sceptical about the culinary abilities of a woman from Hong Kong. To make things more difficult, the master chef is also so gorgeous that Emily can't help being attracted to him.

Emily tries to solve both problems by spiking her luscious profiteroles with an ancient Oriental aphrodisiac. Unfortunately, Harry Sanborne, the low-key, bespectacled producer for Emily's show, samples the delicacies she intends for Etienne's consumption. His powerful reaction to her secret ingredient comes as a pleasant surprise to them both. Harry turns out to be far more impressive in bed than on the set. However, he can't do nearly as much to advance her ambitions as Etienne. Emily tries once more to tempt the exacting M. Duvalier with her special cooking as well as her feminine charms. The outrageous results threaten to end her TV career forever - until Harry steps in to save her reputation and claim her heart.

From the Book 

“Even our Monsieur le Chef can be swayed by great food. The desserts – oh, I’ve just got to try one of these...”

“No! Harry...”

Before I could stop him, though, he’d nipped a cream puff off the pile and popped it into his mouth. His eyes went wide as he chewed and swallowed.

“Unbelievable! Give me another...”

“Please, no...!” I grabbed at his arm, but it was too late. He’d already devoured a second choux.  “Those are supposed to be for Etienne...”

“Come on, you’ve made at least two dozen. He won’t miss one or two.”  Harry made as if to reach for a third puff. I hung on, trying to restrain him, but he was far stronger than I. Under that dorky clothing, I felt his muscles tense and shift. 

He halted, his fingers inches away from its target, as if suddenly aware of my touch.  Turning away from the tower of pastries, he gazed down at me. Behind his glasses, his mocha-coloured eyes gleamed with powerful purpose.

“Harry?” My stomach did a somersault. My cheeks felt as though they’d just come out of the oven. Meanwhile he held me in that fierce, all-consuming stare.

My right hand still gripped his left arm, near the shoulder. He reached out to rest his on my shoulder, as if we were about to dance. “You know, I actually see something a lot sweeter right here.” He slid his palm down my back and pulled me to his chest with a decisiveness that sent my pulse into overdrive. When he leaned in close, I smelled the almonds on his breath.

“Harry...I don’t think...” 

“Shh!” He enforced this directive by fastening his mouth on mine in an energetic kiss.

He tasted, unsurprisingly, of sugar and cream. His firm lips moulded to mine while his tongue teased at the seam, coaxing me to open. I shouldn’t have given in, but I honestly couldn’t help it. He might look like a bit of nerd, but this guy really knew what he was doing. Wet, but not sloppy – forceful, but not brutal – alternating between deep penetration and playful flickering – he kissed with consummate sensuality. All I wanted was to swoon in his arms, to let him take me over.  He seemed eager to oblige.

The hand on my back wandered down to cup my ass and pull my pelvis against his. I gasped at the size and rigidity of the lump pressed against my pubis. My nipples snapped into aching knots and moisture flooded my already damp panties. He laced the fingers of his other hand through my hair, using them to control the position of my head as he drank his fill of me. 

His mouth slipped away from mine to nuzzle below my ear, somehow finding the precise spot that’s directly connected to my clit.  Meanwhile he groped my breasts, squeezing hard – harder than I usually like, but now I actually wanted more.

Apparently he did, too. He tugged at my blouse, trying to pull it out from the waistband of my skirt, and finally succeeding. The first graze of his fingertips along my naked skin sent a wave of arousal crashing through me.

“Wait – no – aah...oh...” My protests faltered as he deftly extricated one of my breasts and caught the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He tugged on the taut node of flesh, twisted it, flicked it back and forth. I swear I felt him doing the same to my clit. At the same time, he caught my earlobe between his teeth, worrying it like a pup with a toy. 

Oh God! He was all over me, fondling and caressing whatever flesh he could access through my dishevelled clothing – and it was glorious! Crumpling my skirt to the waist, he worked his clever fingers under the elastic of my panties to stroke my soaked fur. I jerked against his palm, wanting him to explore more deeply. He appeared happy to oblige, pushing into my channel with his fingers while strumming my clit with his thumb. I wormed  my way into his loose trousers and clung to his cotton-covered ass, feeling his gluts flex as he ground his astonishing hardness against my belly.

I’d never doubt my grandmother again. 

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – nearly fifty single author titles, plus dozens of short stories in various erotic anthologies, including the Lambda winner Where the Girls Are and the IPPIE Best Erotic Book of 2011, Carnal Machines. Her gay scifi erotic romance Quarantine won a Rainbow Awards 2012 Honorable Mention.

Lisabet has more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by her chosen genre.  She has traveled widely and currently lives in Southeast Asia with her indulgent husband and two exceptional felines, where she pursues an alternative career that is completely unrelated to her creative writing.

For more information about Lisabet and her writing, visit her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com) or her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com)

This Man by Jodi Ellen Malpas

“The 'This Man Trilogy' brings the reader passion, intensity and intrigue.

 It is a gripping, must read series that needs to be read to be experienced"

- TotallyBooked Blog

Debut novelist Jodi Ellen Malpas has rocked the online community, with a passionately erotic love story that has set hearts and minds racing, and sailed straight to the top of the New York Times Bestsellers list in a few short months. Many thousands of readers have already fallen head-over-heels for the challenging, self-destructive yet devastatingly handsome Lord of the Manor Jesse Ward, and his smart, feisty, talented counterpart, Ava O’Shea. Set in London against a backdrop of plush furnishings and luxury hotels, theirs is an exclusive, explosive relationship that combines peaks of sizzling ecstasy with troughs of utter desolation, as they each fight to protect their heart and their sanity from an intense love that knows no bounds.  As this gripping story hits bookshops for the first time, more readers than ever will join Ava on Central Jesse Cloud Nine, before tumbling with her to the depths of despair and back again, as secrets emerge from the past, and more obstacles step in the way of their Happy Ever After.  Will they survive each other?  Will they survive being apart?

“5 stars are for Jodi Ellen Malpas' phenomenal storytelling. The woman is a genius at bringing you inside Ava's mind, immersing you in her thoughts and emotions. This story was completely consuming and deserves 5 stars for that alone. I love this woman's writing.” - Goodreads blog

‘This Man’, released in PB 10 October 2013

This Man: Young interior designer Ava O’Shea has no idea what awaits her at the Manor. A run-of-the-mill consultation with a mature country gent seems likely, but nothing could have prepared her for Jesse Ward - a devastatingly handsome, utterly confident, pleasure-seeking playboy who has no boundaries. Ava does not want to be attracted to this man, and yet she cannot control the overwhelming desire that he stirs in her. She knows that her heart will never survive him and her instinct is telling her to run, but Jesse is not willing to let her go. He wants her, and he is determined to have her.

“The end of This Man had me reeling for days.  Hell, weeks if I’m honest…

The wait for Beneath This Man felt long and torturous" - SubClub Books

‘Beneath This Man’, released in PB 24 October 2013

Beneath This Man: Jesse Ward drowned her with his intensity and blind sighted her with his passion, but his confident demeanour told nothing of the dark secrets and the broken soul that lay beneath the surface. Ava O’Shea felt that leaving him was the only way she could survive, but she should have known that Jesse would be impossible to escape. Now he’s back in her life, determined to remind her of the sensual pleasures that they shared, but Ava is equally determined to get at the truth beneath this man’s steely exterior. That means letting herself get close to the Lord of the Manor once more. And that’s exactly where Jesse wants her—where she’s most vulnerable - within touching distance…

“The second book of a trilogy is traditionally the weakest, it’s neither a beginning or an end, and can often be just filler, but that is NOT the case here.  This book just blew me away” – Sinfully Sexy Book Reviews

 ‘This Man Confessed’ released in PB 05 December 2013

This Man Confessed: At the very place where their passionate love affair began, The Manor fills with guests on what should be the happiest day of Ava and Jesse’s lives. She has accepted that she’ll never tame the fierceness in Jesse, and she doesn't want to. Their love is profound, their connection powerful, but just when she thinks that she’s finally got beneath his guarded exterior, more questions arise which lead Ava to believe that Jesse Ward may not be the man she thinks he is. He knows too well how to take her to a place beyond ecstasy…but will he also drive her to the brink of despair? It’s time for this man to confess.

“Jodi hit a homerun with Confessed. Pure class! This series just got better and better with each installment and is without doubt one of my all-time favourite trilogies.” - TotallyBooked Blog

First time British author Jodi Ellen Malpas was born and raised in Northampton, where she lives with her family. Working for her father’s construction business, she wrote the This Man Trilogy quietly in her spare time, before exploding onto the self-published author scene at the end of October 2012. The second instalment of the This Man Trilogy, ‘Beneath This Man’ was published in January 2013 and fast became an Amazon Bestseller, holding #1 position in the chart of its genre for many weeks in both the US and UK. The third and final part of the trilogy, ‘This Man Confessed’, rocketed on release in July 2013, taking #1 spot on The New York Times best sellers list. The rights to the trilogy have since been obtained by Grand Central Publishing in the US, and Orion in the UK. Foreign rights to the Trilogy have been secured in Italy, Hungary, Holland, Spain and Germany. Spain are planning a huge distribution across several countries in Latin America, and the books will also be translated into Catalan.       

Eroticon - an interview

Why did you feel there was a need for Eroticon?

I came up with the idea of Eroticon just before I was going to a conference for parent bloggers. I knew that there were other adult bloggers going and felt that while most people are open to the genre there can still be issues at an event of mixed interests and agendas.

I saw a need for an event that was dedicated to the genres of erotica and sex blogging so that writers could meet their peers and discuss their craft without fear of judgement or derailing anyone else’s learning experience.

At the UK event I noticed that there was a balance between writers, industry experts and interested laypersons (which is probably not the best choice of word given the context).

Was this balance deliberate?

The balance of content and speakers is very carefully thought about as the content of the sessions available, to some extent, dictates who will be attracted to attending the conference, so if there is a good mix of attendees it means I’ve done a good job with the schedule.

At Eroticon 2014 I wanted to have three broad categories of sessions; writing skills, blogging skills, education and diversity.

The challenge for me is always to broaden the appeal of the conference without losing its core values in terms of being an event for writers and framing sessions such as education and diversity in a way that makes them integrated into the conference.

My goal for the conference is that every delegate should walk out with a new skill, idea or connection to move their writing forward, that they leave at least one step ahead of where they were when they walked through the door.

Is this something you hope to achieve with the US edition of Eroticon?

I’m intrigued to see how Eroticon USA will pan out. I think the split is about half and half sex bloggers to writers, which is great as that suggests I’ve managed to put together an event that is attractive to my core audience, which is obviously quite important for an event organiser!

Do you feel this balancing of interests gives Eroticon a unique perspective?

Definitely! Eroticon has a unique perspective not only because of this balance or interests but because it is the only event of its kind. There are many literary festivals, writing workshops, blogging conferences and sex positive events but there are none that pull all of these aspects together.

The other great strength of Eroticon is that the delegates have really taken it to their hearts, with many talking about a sense of belonging that they get at the event, which is incredibly humbling for me but also satisfying as that is one of the things I was hoping to achieve.

What have been the highlights of Eroticon in the UK?

Nothing will replace the opening moments of Eroticon 2012 – the sense that I’d actually done it and here were all these people that had taken a leap of faith, parted with their hard earned cash and turned up.

At 2013 I loved Maureen Scott’s session about mobile publishing and Ether Books and it was fantastic to have Cindy Gallop contribute via Google Hangout for the closing plenary on the Sunday.

It is wonderful to be able to bring such women with foresight to speak at the conference and share who and what inspires me with others.

What do you anticipate being the highlights of US Eroticon?

I think the opening and closing sessions will be the highlights because those “I did it!” moments are instances of overwhelmingly personal of achievement. There will of course be dozens of moments to laugh and learn throughout the day and of course so many people to talk to and meet.

To find out more and buy tickets for Eroticon USA and Eroticon 2014 visit http://www.writesexright.com

Eroticon : Write sex right

The conference for sex bloggers and erotica writers

Find us on Twitter: @writesexright

Torquere Press to donate proceeds from Charity Sip Blitz to LGBT nonprofit

AUSTIN -- Every year, the authors at Torquere Press come together to write for a reason. Torquere’s Annual Charity Sip Blitz gives authors an opportunity to make a difference and donate their time and money to a noble cause. Authors donate all proceeds to a chosen organization, and Torquere matches those donations 100 percent. In previous years, the Charity Sip Blitz has raised $5,000 for Lambda Legal, over $3,000 for the Matthew Shepard Foundation, and more than $10,000 combined for organizations such as NOH8 and Doctors without Borders. This year’s chosen charity? OutServe-SLDN.

OutServe is a non-profit organization dedicated to providing legal services and support to LGBT military individuals and families, as well as working toward equal representation and benefits. Fittingly, this year’s theme for Charity Sip Blitz submissions is “In Uniform,” and authors were encouraged to submit stories about soldiers, EMTs, park rangers, or anyone else who helps save lives in a sexy uniform.

Laura Hughes’ decision to write for Torquere’s Charity Blitz was an easy one. “I'd never heard of OutServe before, but it's a natural and perfect fit for me and my work,” Hughes said. “Military service, gay identity, and the intersection of those worlds are at the center of my young adult novel Don't Ask.”

Don’t Ask was recently released from Prizm Books -- a subsidiary of Torquere Press -- and centers around Mike, a gay high school student who’s involved in his school’s military club during the repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. Mike’s club is also the core of Hughes’ contribution for Torquere’s Charity Blitz -- Camp Spartacus. “The story will definitely appeal to fans of the novel,” Hughes assured. “Like Don't Ask, Camp Spartacus blends adventure, honor, gossip, and crushes!”

More than 20 authors have written short stories for Torquere Press’ 2013-2014 Charity Sip Blitz, which will premiere September 18th and coincides with the company’s tenth anniversary. Readers will be able to purchase sips as individual stories or in a bundle from torquerebooks.com or rainbowebooks.com; all profits will be matched and donated.

Primula Bond - The Silver Chain paperback release today

 The Silver Chain is the first in Primula Bond's new Unbreakable Trilogy published by Mischief Books at Harper Collins. It is available on ebook and now  in paperback and is a must read for anyone who likes their erotica intelligent, romantic, intense, sumptuous, sexy, daring yet real, and set in glittering locations.

Blurb of The Silver Chain:

'Being needed by someone is different from having power over them, and far more alluring, and I'm a fool for not recognising that. I'm a fool for not recognising you.'

Twin souls colliding? Or was Gustav waiting for her?

Young photographer Serena Folkes believes she's struck gold when the tycoon Gustav Levi offers to showcase her debut exhibition. But there are strings attached. Serena must move into Gustav's London town house and agree to pleasure him in any way he chooses. Patron and protegee, they are bound by the silver chain that symbolises this contract until the last photograph is sold.

            As her work sells and Gustav's demands increase, Serena surprises them both with her feisty character and eager participation. It's not such a tough ask. Gustav is exotic and intriguing. She is hungry and willing to learn. Gradually she learns what demons have driven him to strike bargains rather than to trust.  And when Gustav discovers that Serena's abusive past has almost destroyed her ability to love, he realises they are not so different after all.

            Can they plan a future together, or will a single act of betrayal return to haunt them?

Excerpt:

 He is leaning over me now. I know his face so well. The half close of his eyes as if the lids are too heavy, when he's aroused. The pushing forward of his lower lip when he finally releases it, as if eager for a kiss.

            'I want to touch you all over, Gustav. Will you untie the silver chain? I promise I'm not going anywhere.'

            He grins. 'You can't leave me, anyway. Not while I have some rather incriminating footage in my possession.'

            'Footage?' I wriggle anxiously.

            'I have cameras in this house, remember? Mostly switched off, actually, but that night when I thrashed you with the little nun's whip, it's all on film. You wouldn't leave without securing that, would you?'

            I squeal and kick at him. 'You bastard! Blackmailing me!'

            'You're mine, young lady!' He laughs, and slaps me, hard, on the bottom. 'I can hold you to ransom for as long as I like!'

            We wrestle, hard, my struggle getting weaker as he weighs me down with his hands. My head flops back at last, with one last yank at my shackles.

            'You like it, don't you? Our silver chain? Being tied like this really turns you on.'

            I lie there, waiting. He lowers himself slowly over me. Unzips his jeans. And there is my prize.

            Dear God, I thought this moment would never come. It was hard and brutal the other night. We were both gripped by fury and fear. But tonight? Tonight I want the luxury of taking a good look. I'm rapidly becoming unable to live without it.

            So. Stay still. Don't break the spell. We're facing each other this time. His fathomless eyes. His sensuous mouth. He's going to do it this time like a lover. Gorgeous, powerful, weird, wonderful Gustav Levi.

            In the window the moon has slipped sideways on its way towards morning, as if averting its eyes, or ceding us some privacy.

            The weight of him on my legs pins me down. I hitch my hips invitingly, see his jaw tighten as he bends his face down to brush his mouth against mine.

            'Thank God you're here,' he murmurs hoarsely.

            I pull him into me, my legs strong and determined, and at last, at last his stomach is going tight as he starts to push inside me, little by little, he's so hard and hot. My body encloses him. My legs wrap around his hips and we tussle, he's strong, resisting, I'm determined, pulling, my body wants him deep, deeper inside me but still he's testing himself, testing me, holding back for as long as possible, and then we're rocking and tilting together, the pillows soft against my back, my bottom lifted off the bed as he pulls me with him.

            This is normal, hot sex. So normal. My man and me.

            His dark head is steady above mine, eyes black coals burning. It's the face that has been uppermost in my mind for the last month.

            A thump and clatter down in the hall. So Dickson has found the key.  

            'Ignore him, Gustav. I'm here. Look at me.'

            Gustav settles into a kind of trance, still staring at me, his fingers stroking my sides as if he's tuning a harp. Then he takes hold of my hips, lifts them easily towards his strong, lithe body. He starts moving again. He starts to push. He's just inside me. I move with him. It's all so natural. 

            Of course he's focussed. Gustav Levi doesn't do anything by halves. He doesn't alter his slow, sexy rhythm. We are moving together, in time with the heartbeat of the jazz music. My legs grip tighter as he pushes further, further, he fits so perfectly, I'm loving this so much, I want to moan and thrash, and pull him and kiss him and bite him.

            But I don't. Not tonight. I show him a woman who can remain silent and submissive.

            I keep my eyes on him, take a good look before the moonlight slides away completely. He's filled out, somehow, like a ravenous man who has finally eaten a square meal. There's no spare flesh on him, his muscles are chiselled by some kind of work out he must be doing, but I like that he's bigger, stronger, than when I first met him. His arms ripple and flex with new muscles.

            I'm his square meal. His nourishment.

            I must have moaned just then, because suddenly he shifts, leaning close. I arch my back again, I'm so impatient now. Does he want my yearning breasts?

            To my astonishment he reaches above me and unclips the silver chain, releasing my wrists, spreads his hands under my bottom and flips me like a pancake up towards him. We are upright now, face to face, nose to nose, like medieval saints praying on a tomb. I am straddling his knees. I feel so young like this, so athletic and free. I love that he's playing with me, experimenting with me. And I love that he is still fitted deep inside, angled right up to the hilt.

            We pause for a moment, breathing fast into each other’s faces, taunting each other to see who will move first, testing ourselves to see who will crack and give in to this incredible moment.

            His lips are moving silently as if he's counting himself in, or praying. He pulls his haunches back and so do I. He's not gentle. He slams his hips into me and I buck back at him. We pull back together, arching in rhythm as if rowing a boat, slam back so hard that we shudder with the impact of bone on bone.

            His black eyes bore through me. I want to shut mine, but I fear he might vanish if I do. I've shut my eyes so you can't see me. So I keep staring back, not blinking, as we grind and pause, so solid, filling, fitting me perfectly. My body grasping him like a tight glove.

You can buy The Silver Chain at bit.ly/scebook

or amzn.to/14b3Rww

or amzn.to/17RLLUk

or preorder paperback on amzn.to/10iqbmC 

Author Bio:

 Primula Bond is an Oxford educated mother of three boys and has lived in Oxford, London and Cairo.  She currently lives in Hampshire and works part time as a legal clerk for criminal defence lawyers as well as writing freelance features under her real name.  Her erotic novels include Country Pleasures, Club Crème and Behind The Curtain and dozens of short stories published by Virgin Books.  Her novella Sisters in Sin and various short stories are published by Mischief Books, and Xcite Books at Accent Press have published a solo collection of short stories Random Acts of Lust , and her novella Out of Focus.  Primula also offers a critique service for aspiring erotic and romantic writers through Writers Workshop.  You can find her blog  at www.primulabond.blogspot.com , on Facebook, or follow her on Twitter @primulabond.

'I really loved the book - it was different - but good different.. I can't wait for book 2 - the cliffhanger really left me hanging! I want to know what happens with Serena and Gustav!'  B J's Book Blog

'I really loved it. Primula Bond knows how to write interesting, engaging and fascinating relationships.' Northern Lass

'I felt the story was quite well written and it took me a day to read as I romped through it and didn't want to put it down.'  Goodreads.

You can buy The Silver Chain at bit.ly/scebook

or amzn.to/14b3Rww

or amzn.to/17RLLUk

or preorder paperback on amzn.to/10iqbmC

Primula Bond - The Silver Chain

 The Silver Chain is the first in Primula Bond's new Unbreakable Trilogy published by Mischief Books at Harper Collins. It is available on ebook now and in paperback from 15^th August 2013 and is a must read for anyone who likes their erotica intelligent, romantic, intense, sumptuous, sexy, daring yet real, and set in glittering locations.

Blurb of The Silver Chain:

'Being needed by someone is different from having power over them, and far more alluring, and I'm a fool for not recognising that. I'm a fool for not recognising you.'

Twin souls colliding? Or was Gustav waiting for her?

Young photographer Serena Folkes believes she's struck gold when the tycoon Gustav Levi offers to showcase her debut exhibition. But there are strings attached. Serena must move into Gustav's London town house and agree to pleasure him in any way he chooses. Patron and protegee, they are bound by the silver chain that symbolises this contract until the last photograph is sold.

            As her work sells and Gustav's demands increase, Serena surprises them both with her feisty character and eager participation. It's not such a tough ask. Gustav is exotic and intriguing. She is hungry and willing to learn. Gradually she learns what demons have driven him to strike bargains rather than to trust.  And when Gustav discovers that Serena's abusive past has almost destroyed her ability to love, he realises they are not so different after all.

            Can they plan a future together, or will a single act of betrayal return to haunt them?

Excerpt:

 He is leaning over me now. I know his face so well. The half close of his eyes as if the lids are too heavy, when he's aroused. The pushing forward of his lower lip when he finally releases it, as if eager for a kiss.

            'I want to touch you all over, Gustav. Will you untie the silver chain? I promise I'm not going anywhere.'

            He grins. 'You can't leave me, anyway. Not while I have some rather incriminating footage in my possession.'

            'Footage?' I wriggle anxiously.

            'I have cameras in this house, remember? Mostly switched off, actually, but that night when I thrashed you with the little nun's whip, it's all on film. You wouldn't leave without securing that, would you?'

            I squeal and kick at him. 'You bastard! Blackmailing me!'

            'You're mine, young lady!' He laughs, and slaps me, hard, on the bottom. 'I can hold you to ransom for as long as I like!'

            We wrestle, hard, my struggle getting weaker as he weighs me down with his hands. My head flops back at last, with one last yank at my shackles.

            'You like it, don't you? Our silver chain? Being tied like this really turns you on.'

            I lie there, waiting. He lowers himself slowly over me. Unzips his jeans. And there is my prize.

            Dear God, I thought this moment would never come. It was hard and brutal the other night. We were both gripped by fury and fear. But tonight? Tonight I want the luxury of taking a good look. I'm rapidly becoming unable to live without it.

            So. Stay still. Don't break the spell. We're facing each other this time. His fathomless eyes. His sensuous mouth. He's going to do it this time like a lover. Gorgeous, powerful, weird, wonderful Gustav Levi.

            In the window the moon has slipped sideways on its way towards morning, as if averting its eyes, or ceding us some privacy.

            The weight of him on my legs pins me down. I hitch my hips invitingly, see his jaw tighten as he bends his face down to brush his mouth against mine.

            'Thank God you're here,' he murmurs hoarsely.

            I pull him into me, my legs strong and determined, and at last, at last his stomach is going tight as he starts to push inside me, little by little, he's so hard and hot. My body encloses him. My legs wrap around his hips and we tussle, he's strong, resisting, I'm determined, pulling, my body wants him deep, deeper inside me but still he's testing himself, testing me, holding back for as long as possible, and then we're rocking and tilting together, the pillows soft against my back, my bottom lifted off the bed as he pulls me with him.

            This is normal, hot sex. So normal. My man and me.

            His dark head is steady above mine, eyes black coals burning. It's the face that has been uppermost in my mind for the last month.

            A thump and clatter down in the hall. So Dickson has found the key.  

            'Ignore him, Gustav. I'm here. Look at me.'

            Gustav settles into a kind of trance, still staring at me, his fingers stroking my sides as if he's tuning a harp. Then he takes hold of my hips, lifts them easily towards his strong, lithe body. He starts moving again. He starts to push. He's just inside me. I move with him. It's all so natural. 

            Of course he's focussed. Gustav Levi doesn't do anything by halves. He doesn't alter his slow, sexy rhythm. We are moving together, in time with the heartbeat of the jazz music. My legs grip tighter as he pushes further, further, he fits so perfectly, I'm loving this so much, I want to moan and thrash, and pull him and kiss him and bite him.

            But I don't. Not tonight. I show him a woman who can remain silent and submissive.

            I keep my eyes on him, take a good look before the moonlight slides away completely. He's filled out, somehow, like a ravenous man who has finally eaten a square meal. There's no spare flesh on him, his muscles are chiselled by some kind of work out he must be doing, but I like that he's bigger, stronger, than when I first met him. His arms ripple and flex with new muscles.

            I'm his square meal. His nourishment.

            I must have moaned just then, because suddenly he shifts, leaning close. I arch my back again, I'm so impatient now. Does he want my yearning breasts?

            To my astonishment he reaches above me and unclips the silver chain, releasing my wrists, spreads his hands under my bottom and flips me like a pancake up towards him. We are upright now, face to face, nose to nose, like medieval saints praying on a tomb. I am straddling his knees. I feel so young like this, so athletic and free. I love that he's playing with me, experimenting with me. And I love that he is still fitted deep inside, angled right up to the hilt.

            We pause for a moment, breathing fast into each other’s faces, taunting each other to see who will move first, testing ourselves to see who will crack and give in to this incredible moment.

            His lips are moving silently as if he's counting himself in, or praying. He pulls his haunches back and so do I. He's not gentle. He slams his hips into me and I buck back at him. We pull back together, arching in rhythm as if rowing a boat, slam back so hard that we shudder with the impact of bone on bone.

            His black eyes bore through me. I want to shut mine, but I fear he might vanish if I do. I've shut my eyes so you can't see me. So I keep staring back, not blinking, as we grind and pause, so solid, filling, fitting me perfectly. My body grasping him like a tight glove.

You can buy The Silver Chain at bit.ly/scebook

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or preorder paperback on amzn.to/10iqbmC 

Author Bio:

 Primula Bond is an Oxford educated mother of three boys and has lived in Oxford, London and Cairo.  She currently lives in Hampshire and works part time as a legal clerk for criminal defence lawyers as well as writing freelance features under her real name.  Her erotic novels include Country Pleasures, Club Crème and Behind The Curtain and dozens of short stories published by Virgin Books.  Her novella Sisters in Sin and various short stories are published by Mischief Books, and Xcite Books at Accent Press have published a solo collection of short stories Random Acts of Lust , and her novella Out of Focus.  Primula also offers a critique service for aspiring erotic and romantic writers through Writers Workshop.  You can find her blog  at www.primulabond.blogspot.com , on Facebook, or follow her on Twitter @primulabond.

'I really loved the book - it was different - but good different.. I can't wait for book 2 - the cliffhanger really left me hanging! I want to know what happens with Serena and Gustav!'  B J's Book Blog

'I really loved it. Primula Bond knows how to write interesting, engaging and fascinating relationships.' Northern Lass

'I felt the story was quite well written and it took me a day to read as I romped through it and didn't want to put it down.'  Goodreads.

You can buy The Silver Chain at bit.ly/scebook

or amzn.to/14b3Rww

or amzn.to/17RLLUk

or preorder paperback on amzn.to/10iqbmC

Rajasthani Moon by Lisabet Sarai

 Neither kink nor curse can stop a woman with a mission.

Cecily Harrowsmith, secret agent extraordinaire, is a woman on a mission. When the remote Indian kingdom of Rajasthan refused to remit its taxes to the Empire, Her Majesty imposed an embargo. Deprived of the energy-rich mineral viridium, essential for modern technology and development, Rajasthan was expected to quickly give in and resume its payments. Yet after three years, the rebellious principality still has not knuckled under. Cecily undertakes the difficult journey to that rugged, arid land in order to determine just how it has managed to survive, and if possible to convince the country to return to the Empire’s embrace. Instead, she’s taken captive by a brigand, who turns out to be the ruler’s half-brother Pratan, and delivered into the hands of the sexy but sadistic Rajah Amir, who expertly mingles torture and delight in his interrogation of the voluptuous interloper.

Cursed before birth by Amir’s jealous mother, Pratan changes to a ravening wolf whenever the moon is full. Cecily uncovers the counter-spell that can reverse the effects of the former queen’s hex and tries to trade that information for her freedom. Drawn to the fierce wolf-man and sympathising with his suffering, she volunteers to serve as the sacrifice required by the ritual—offering her body to the beast. In return, the Rajah reveal Rajasthan’s amazing secret source of energy. In the face of almost impossible odds, Cecily has accomplished the task entrusted to her by the Empire. But can she really bear to leave the virile half-brothers and their colourful land behind and return to the constraints of her life in England?

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From the book

Pratan lifted her off the horse. She cringed at the nasty slurping sound as her pussy and rear hole released the twin dildos. Both orifices felt loose and raw. Her shoulders and thighs ached from the strain of fighting off orgasms.

Cradling her in his arms, the bandit carried her to a low divan near one wall and laid her gently on the silken cushions. Despite the soft fabric, the stripes on her back flared into fresh anguish.

“Thank you.” Her voice was hoarse and strange to her ears. “I don’t think I could have borne any more.”

“What makes you think we’re finished?” he asked with a devilish grin. Nevertheless his touch was tender as he brushed her tangled hair off her forehead. Kneeling beside the couch, he turned her face to his.

Those eyes again. The eyes of a madman—a beast—a god. She wanted to look away, but his gaze held her fast, searching her mind, or so it seemed. An awful temptation seized her. She would tell him everything—about the parchment, about her mission… Perhaps then he would be merciful and let her rest.

Before she could act on the impulse, though, he leaned in to claim a kiss. Automatically, despite her sore muscles, she reached up to encircle him with her arms. His firm lips sealed hers, capturing her moans of new pleasure. Her battered cunny wept with new need. As he plundered her mouth like the brigand he was, Cecily could do nothing but surrender.

He tasted of spices, the remnants of their lavish repast. Hot musk rose from his sweat-slicked skin. She felt his knotted muscles bunch and twist under her fingers as he straddled her prone form, their mouths still locked. His rigid member prodded her pubis. Despite her exhaustion and pain, she wanted him. Arching her back, she struggled to align her cleft with his teasing cock. Her stretched quim had never felt so empty.

Pratan broke the kiss, chuckling. Now he gripped her wrists in his huge hands, trapping her against the upholstery. “I thought you’d had enough!”

You can buy the book at your favorite online store:

Amazon

Amazon UK

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All Romance Ebooks

Total-E-Bound  (TEB can send books directly to your ereader)

Tilly Hunter

A big thank you to Ashley for inviting me over here today. There are plenty of invaluable writing tips on the site already as well as a fair bit of advice on approaching editors or publishers, so I’ve tried to look at things from a slightly different angle with my five tips...

1. Turn off your inner censor...

You can’t write about sex with a projection of your mother, father, gran, uncle, priest or teacher sitting on your shoulder expressing shock or moral outrage at every sentence. If you have young children or a sensitive job, you’ll probably need to pick yourself a pseudonym and guard it closely. Then you can give yourself permission to write freely, unrestrainedly, uninhibitedly. Without anyone whispering to you that it’s not art, that it’s cheap and smutty, that it’s wrong or filthy.

2. ...then write dirty

I mean really dirty. Think of a sexual act that you, personally, find shocking, or weird, or distasteful, or even disgusting. Then write a short scene incorporating that act. And not in a shocking, weird, distasteful or disgusting way. In a way that is hot and positive and leaves you with that tight little feeling in your throat. Even if you never show this to another soul, I think it’s useful to get the worst you can think of out of your system rather than tiptoeing towards more and more risqué things and also to learn how to make anything sexy, even if it’s totally beyond your own experience or fantasies. Another useful exercise is to make something really mundane sound hot. Something like knitting, say...

3. Copy

I’m joking. You shouldn’t copy other authors. But you should read as a writer, working out what it is about other authors that you like and how you can take elements of that and make them your own. I love the deep point of view and breathless stream of consciousness of Charlotte Stein, the literate quality and filthy daring of Janine Ashbless, the realistic and authoritative descriptions of BDSM in Fulani, the playful humour of Justine Elyot. Whatever strengths your favourite authors have, take those as your standard and aim to write that well.

4. Don’t sell out

Related to the last point is to always produce work you can be proud of. I know it’s not the done thing, especially for us Brits, to admit that we actually think we’re any good, but for me it’s really important to feel a personal sense of pride in what I write. This means not churning something out and thinking ‘it’ll do’. Not writing to ape the bestsellers. Not avoiding moral issues (and not the ones your gran, priest, teacher etc would be on about). The moral issues I’m thinking of are the safety of casual BDSM encounters, how easy it is to unwittingly slip into scenes of dubious consent, gender stereotypes, presenting straight sex as normative...

5. Don’t let it get personal

There are, of course, erotic memoirs or diaries out there – Diary of a Submissive and No Ordinary Love Story by Sophie Morgan spring to mind and both are great reads written by someone who has been very brave to bare her personal story. But they’re different from writing erotic fiction. You can’t base an entire writing career on your own exploits, however varied and exciting. And, for me, I start to get uneasy when real life creeps in a little too much, however much my imagination embellishes it. I can’t reveal which stories that’s happened in, although I can tell you it’s not the m/m ones... I use all manner of observations and snippets of conversation and things I’ve read as inspiration and to add unusual little details to my stories, but for the big picture it’s all my imagination. And yes, that can be a dark and strange place.

***

Tilly Hunter is a British erotica writer and editor with short stories out or in the pipeline from Xcite Books, House of Erotica, MLR Press, Cleis Press, Storm Moon Press, Coming Together and Ryan Field Press. Her trio of BDSM short stories, Miranda’s Tempest, gives a kinky twist to Shakespeare’s The Tempest, Grimms’ Hansel and Gretel and Homer’s The Odyssey and is available at most online retailers or at Amazon or Amazon UK. Her editing and proofreading site is at www.tillyhunter.co.uk and she blogs at tillyhuntererotica.blogspot.co.uk.