Saturday, April 21, 2018

Saturday Seven: seven things my characters don’t do - #SaturdaySeven #personality #bloghop

Characters image

I’ve been traveling for the past two weekends, hence didn’t post a Saturday Seven, but I thought I’d remedy that today.

I’ve written a lot of books and stories—it’s difficult to figure out exactly how to count, but I probably have at least a hundred novels, novellas and short stories available. That’s a lot of characters!

While I strive for variety in my characters, the people I create have certain commonalities. In particular, there are some activities they’re very unlikely to ever engage in. This generally reflects my own life and preferences—for the most part these are things I don’t do, either.




1. Play hockey

I know that sports romance is quite a popular genre, but I could never write one. I have zero interest in team sports, either amateur or professional. And I probably know less about hockey than any other sport except rugby. (Okay, I do have a rugby team in an upcoming book. However, they don’t actually play the game in my story.)

2. Smoke cigarettes

In fact, smoking provides a quick way to establish certain sorts of characters (for instance, the hard-boiled, world-weary private investigator so popular in noir tales). So I won’t go out on a limb and claim I’ll never write a character who smokes. I can’t think of anyone I’ve written who does, though.

It’s a bit odd, because many of my characters drink alcohol. Especially wine!

3. Watch TV as a regular pastime

I haven’t owned a television in more than thirty years. When I think about ways to spend my time, TV doesn’t even occur to me. Hence, the same tends to be true of my characters.

Anyway, they tend to be busy doing more interesting things!

4. Trick someone into getting her pregnant

Having a heroine seduce a hero in order to get pregnant is a trope I’ve encountered in some romances. To be honest, I find this notion horrifying.

The idea that a character might deliberately sabotage a woman’s birth control so he can impregnate her is equally repugnant.

Child-bearing is too serious an issue to play with, even in fiction.

5. Be celibate

I might have a character who starts out being celibate (or a virgin). However, given my favored genres, which are erotica and erotic romance, it’s quite unlikely such a character would remain so by the end of the tale.

All right—I can imagine writing a tale with a character who engages in sexual activity in his or her fantasies only. That might be a challenge. I’m not sure you could really claim such a character was strictly celibate, though.

6. Take a selfie

I’m sure it’s a function of my generation, but I find the current passion for constantly photographing oneself to be embarrassing, even a bit pathetic. My characters use their phones mostly for the original purpose of communication.

7. Abuse an animal

I’ve written a few truly despicable villains, people who have no compunctions about rape, torture or murder. However, I don’t think I could ever create a character who was deliberately abusive to animals. Just thinking about that makes me queasy.

Friday, April 20, 2018

Jade by Valerie Ullmer is free! #PNR #FreeBook #LimitedTimeOffer @ValerieUllmer

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Blurb

Jade never wanted a mate. She loved being an assassin and she had a family in her fellow assassins, their mates, and little Silas. She truly had everything she needed. But when Ghost assigned her to track the same immortals who tried to kill Xander’s family, she couldn’t refuse.

But the complication arises when Ghost requests she partner with Noah, a human and ex-special forces soldier. Jade has never worked with a human before, much less one that hated her from the moment he laid eyes on her. But she was a professional and if she could play a part in destroying the immortals who threatened her family, she could accept the human. If only she knew how to fight her attraction to him.


All Noah Hale wanted was to kill the immortals who lured his best friend and fellow ex-Navy SEAL to his death. He had no desire to be teamed with a beautiful tracker who mesmerized him the moment she turned her emerald eyes his way. But in order to stop other soldiers from pursuing the same fate, he needed to swallow his pride and work with a group of immortals he didn’t trust.

As Jade and Noah track the group of shifters through the mountains of Colorado, the danger lurking around every corner threatens everything they both hold close. Will they be able to find a way through, together?



Free on Amazon from the 19th to the 22nd of April!

Buy Links




Excerpt

Jade caught a scent of a human as she entered the fourteen-story building in downtown Snowfall. It wasn’t just any human scent, but something that made all of her instincts flare. She knew that she’d never caught this particular scent before, but something told her that this human might be important to her. She tried to brush it off as quickly as the thought came, but she couldn’t find it coincidental she smelled it in the same steel building owned by Ghost and housed the headquarters of Dark Company.

As she dismissed the fleeting thought of searching for the scent, her heart thumped once, hard, in her chest at the thought of not finding its owner. She forced herself to walk toward the elevator bank, ignoring the unwanted perusals she received from the men in the lobby. Even in an unassuming hoodie and black yoga pants, she drew unwanted attention. A side effect of being an immortal.

The elevator opened as soon as she pressed the up-button and she kept her gaze down as she walked into the elevator. She entered the code to get to Ghost’s private floor, her movements too quick to be caught by the human eye, before she squeezed into the corner. Jade used her other senses as three men in suits and two women entered the enclosed space with her. There was no need to glance at the glass interior that covered the back wall to see what she looked like.

She sensed eyes on her. Instead of searching out the gaze, she whipped her long, straight dyed black hair into a bun on the back of her head with quick movements before sneaking her hands into the front pockets of her hoodie.

Jade waited patiently as the car traveled toward the penthouse, her ultimate destination, but she couldn’t help but try to find the intriguing scent from earlier.

After my meeting.

All she knew was he hadn’t used the particular elevator she was in and the higher the lift took her in the building, the more his scent dissipated.

In her entire existence, or what she remembered of it, she’d never been attracted to…anyone. She’d never felt the pull to find someone either. But lately, she’d felt increasingly restless whenever she had any downtime and her skin tingled in a way that had nothing to do with signaling immediate danger. It was as though her body tried to convey something she didn’t understand.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a man who had gotten into the elevator with her on the first floor stepped into her personal space.

Hey, beautiful?”

Jade rolled her eyes and raised her head to glare at the man. Of course, he wouldn’t take the hint that she wanted to be left alone. To emphasize the point, she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, moving away from his intrusion.

The man decided to take this as an invitation and moved to wrap his arm around her waist. The move gave her a clear shot to his ribs and she took it, gently moving her elbow back and making contact. She flinched when she heard a distinctive crack, realizing she hadn’t been careful enough. Before she could apologize, the elevator door opened and he ran off without looking back, holding onto his side.

She sighed.

About the Author

Valerie writes paranormal and contemporary M/F and M/M erotic romances. She lives in Denver, Colorado with her wonderfully supportive husband and their funny and wise black lab. She's addicted to coffee, crime shows, and reading and writing character-driven romances.



Thursday, April 19, 2018

Fear of Flying - #mash-up #steampunk #risks

airship image


It would have been much faster to fly.

Alas, Cecily Harrowsmith—special agent for Her Majesty the Queen, expert in the martial arts of three continents, past mistress of princes, potentates and the occasional prime minister—was afraid of flying. She despised herself for this weakness, but not enough to board one of the Empire’s sleek, viridium-powered airships, strap herself into her seat and hope for the best.

Hence the current tedious journey. Cecily peered out of the window of her carriage at the endless expanse of russet-coloured desert stretching in all directions. The mere sight of all that sand was enough to make her throat burn. She sipped her tepid tea, wondering for the twentieth time why she’d accepted this bloody assignment.



Thus begins my sixth novel, Rajasthani Moon, a book that deliberately defies categorization. It contains elements of the steam punk and paranormal sub-genres, plus quite a lot of moderately extreme BDSM and a M/F/M ménage. It features a kick-ass Rubenesque heroine, a billionaire Rajah and a sexy, deliciously disreputable bandit. It flirts with non-consensual fantasies and lesbian attraction. It has some funny moments, not infrequently associated with sex. Oh, and it's a romance, with what I hope is a sublimely satisfying happy ending (although I won't tell you who ends up with whom!)

Writing this book involved taking risks. I've observed how readers cling to their favorite genres. I broke rules right and left with this novel. Would the market embrace my mash-up? Or would readers run away in droves, terrified of the unfamiliar?

Producing the same sort of stories, again and again, can be comfortable. It may help sales, too. To grow as authors, though, we have to leave safety behind. We must step out onto that high pinnacle of creativity and let go, defying the fear that we'll plummet ignominiously to the ground. We have to get over our fear of flying.

Rajasthani Moon was like nothing I'd written before. Well, that's not strictly true. Like most of my books, it has plenty of erotic content. What I mean is that I've never felt so free as I did writing this book. I gave myself permission to follow my imagination, no matter how wild its suggestions. I found this difficult at first. The further I ventured out onto my self-constructed limb, though, the easier I found the process.

The result? Well, I'm pleased with it. I have no idea what other people will think. But I am not going to worry. That's out of my control.

And Cecily? She conquers her fear, too, eventually:


The passenger compartment was about ten feet long. Its walls were chest height. A canopy shaded one end, including the brass and quartz crystal control panel. The other was open to the sky, though the gas bag a dozen feet above them shielded them from the most direct rays of the sun. She was not surprised to discover that the floor was covered by multiple layers of intricately-patterned carpets and strewn with fat, multi-hued pillows. The Rajasthanis seemed to have little use for furniture.

Amir busied himself at the controls while Pratan lounged on the cushions, looking rakish and indolent. “Come here, Cecily,” he ordered. “Sometimes the take-off is a bit bumpy.”

Her heartbeat accelerated and her palms started to sweat at this reminder of what lay ahead. She gave him a sharp look. She could have sworn he was suppressing a chuckle.

Nevertheless, she reclined beside him, as he’d instructed. He slipped his arm around her shoulder and held her tight against his chest. His strength reassured her, but she still felt as though her stomach was turning somersaults.

A low frequency vibration hummed under them as Amir started the engine.

Here we go,” called the Rajah. “Prepare to lift off.”

Kiss me,” said Pratan. He took possession of her mouth without waiting for her acquiescence.

Amir released the tethers binding the dirigible to the roof. They retracted into their housings with a snap and the gondola swayed in reaction, springing upward a few feet. Cecily’s heart climbed into her throat. She gritted her teeth against sudden nausea. Pratan’s agile tongue wormed its way between her lips, urging her to relax and open, and the spell passed. Meanwhile, his hands wandered over her body, pulling her loose clothing out of the way so that he could stroke her breasts and belly.

His scent enveloped her, sandalwood and smoke superimposed on animal musk. The wolf had not returned since their encounter on Mount Abu, but Pratan still smelt like something feral. He burrowed into her, sucking on her tongue and nibbling her lips, while his fingers teased her nipples into hungry knots. Cecily moaned as the pleasure mounted. She lay back, cradled in the nest of cushions, and allowed him free access.

~ ~ ~

Rajasthani Moon is available at all your favorite bookstores. 



Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Body Electric - #BDSM #Electricity #MFRWHooks

Book Hooks banner

I’ve been away for the past two weekshope you have all been enjoying yourselves! Just got back yesterday, a few hours before the Book Hooks deadline.

This hook is from my story “Body Electric”, one of two BDSM erotic romance tales in D&S Duos Book 1. I have four volumes in this series, each (as suggested by the series title) including two tales of power exchange. These books tend more toward “literary” erotica, but almost all have at least a hint of romance. Many focus on relationships between committed couples. 

 

In "Body Electric", a professor of engineering charms his female colleague into experiments on the erotic effects of electricity. In "Limits", the second tale in this volume, a long-established kinky couple push their relationship to next level of trust.

You can get a copy of the book here:




Here’s the hook:

He didn't look like an engineer. He smiled and postured and gestured expansively as if reciting poetry or making a speech. Half a dozen females surrounded him, hanging on his every word. Periodically the little knot of women (which even included crusty old Margaret Evans) would burst into self-conscious laughter. Dean Evans would look around nervously, then return her attentive gaze to the towering shaggy-haired orator in their midst, as if he were a combination of Tom Cruise and Mahatma Gandhi.

A politician, or a TV celebrity, or even the leader of cult – I could readily believe that he was any of these as I watched him fascinate his listeners. But an assistant professor from the department of electrical engineering? Highly implausible. But true nevertheless. Earlier in the evening, my colleague Loren had given me a full briefing. Dr. Ryan Moresby was apparently a brilliant teacher, a talented inventor, and a rising star in his department. In addition, Loren emphasized, he was single, which was surprising considering his obvious talent in attracting the opposite sex. Of course, why would someone with that kind of charisma want to settle down?

I wondered idly how many of the women in that little circle of his he had bedded, then gave myself a mental slap on the hand. I had to stop thinking like that! Ever since I completed my dissertation, I had found myself speculating on other people's secret lives and desires. My research on women's erotic literature was, of course, impeccably scholarly, serious and restrained, carefully purged of any salacious elements. My sources, though, were anything but. Their enduring influence on my thoughts was only too clear.

~ ~ ~

I hope you’ll drop by to visit the other authors participating in this week’s Book Hooks hop!




Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Review Tuesday: Wild in the Country by Portia Da Costa #eroticfantasy #classic #vintage

Wild in the Country cover

Wild in the Country by Portia Da Costa
Latest edition, 2017

Leggy, creamy-skinned redhead Flora Swain longs for something newsomething more exciting than her well-paying but tedious job and her well-meaning but prudish boyfriend Ian. While Flora has daring fantasies and longs for sexual variety and kinky exploration, Ian is strictly a missionary-position, don’t-make-too-much-noise sort of guy.

When she unexpectedly inherits a chunk of money, Flora throws caution to the winds. Handing in her resignation, she moves from the city to the picturesque country village of Marwick Magna, where she takes possession of charming Pennyroyal Cottage and its resident feline Arnold. Little does she know that she has joined a community of libertines whose salacious activities far exceed her wildest dreams.

As she starts to meet her neighbors, including the seductive and mysterious Morwenna Carfax and Declan McKenna, a renowned artist who lives next door, every social encounter seems to turn intimate. Flora has never been with a woman before; she’s never masturbated in public; she’s never been spanked, or been bound and teased. With the eager assistance of the attractive denizens of Marwick Magna, Flora rapidly expands her repertoire of erotic experience. Meanwhile, almost every day, she receives explicit letters from someone who signs himself (or herself) “The Scribe”. The Scribe seems to know about all her naughty adventures, almost as if he (or she) were constantly watching Flora’s experiments with pleasure. Who is her secret admirer? It could be any of the village’s outrageous inhabitantsanyone, that is, except sweet and sexy Declan, who is illiterate.

Wild in the Country is pure, vintage Portia Da Costa, the sort of erotica that first inspired my own writing. The book was originally published in the nineties, in a more innocent time. It gleefully includes a huge variety of sexual situations and activities, including M/M and F/F interactions. Set against the lush background of a bountiful English summer, the novel brings Flora, her desires and her not-terribly-effective doubts to vivid life.

I love women like Flora, women who aren’t afraid of their own carnality. That’s the way I was, during my “sex goddess” period, so I really identified with her. Meanwhile, the author populates her fictional village with distinctive and likeable characters, each one attractive in his or her own way. There’s the deceptively prim shopkeeper Lucy, bare-bottomed under her ankle-length skirts and buttoned-to-the-throat Victorian blouses—intellectual, middle-aged author Marshall Fox, with his predilection for kink—Lord and Lady Rawnsley, the local gentry, who excel in the arts of discipline—Jack the handyman, with his hairy limbs and unlimited horniness. And of course there’s Declan, who seems to want more from Flora than just her body.

Eventually, Declan and Flora fall in love and commit to one another, but honestly, I can’t call Wild in the Country a romance. It breaks every rule of the genre.

You’re probably not surprised to learn that didn’t bother me at all. I adored the novel. It took me back to a simpler time, when desire was magic, and all you had to do was imagine what you wanted in order to have your wishes granted.


Saturday, April 14, 2018

Repin’ the Realness of Race, Class and Wellness in Erotic Lit - #LGBTQ #womenwriters #blackwritersmatter

Owing It cover

By Stephani Maari Booker (Guest Blogger)

Writing has been my lifelong vocation, and for a good chunk of my life I’ve been a voracious reader of erotica, mostly F/F erotica being that I’m a lesbian. However, I’ve written only four complete erotic stories in my life, plus an erotic fantasy romance that’s currently in progress. On top of having had jobs in journalism and nonprofits, I do a lot of different kinds of writing, so erotica just isn’t always on the front burner when I have many other things cooking on my stove.

In my completed erotic stories, I’m repin’ the realness of race and class when folks hook up. To translate from African American Vernacular English to Standard American English, I’m representing the everyday truths of race and class in romantic/sexual relationships. I’m not depicting big conflicts and dramas but rather the down-to-earth little pushes and pulls between intimate partners that with respectful communication, love and a little sex can resolve into deeper understandings and connections.

An interracial and inter-class couple are main characters in two of my published erotic stories. Madeleine (“Maddi”) is an African American woman from an urban low-income background who fought for the education and opportunities to enable her to have a lower-middle-class job, while her lover Freya is a European American woman who’s been middle class since birth and is a classic lesbian eco-feminist Goddess-worshipper. Their differing perspectives based on their backgrounds and identities affect their individual choices and beliefs about everything, including money and sex, often with amusing results.

My first published story with Maddi and Freya is “The Trade-In” in Coming Together: Girl on Girl, one of Eroticanthology.org’s collections that raise money for charity. In “The Trade-In,” Freya wants Maddi to get rid of an unattractive, cheap jelly-rubber dildo and replace it with a quality silicone one. However, Maddi thinks it’s extravagant to pay a lot of money for a sex toy.

The second published story featuring Maddi and Freya is now in Owning It: Embracing Our Bodies, Sexuality, and Power, a newly released anthology from SinCyr Publishing, a press whose mission is "shifting rape culture one sexy story at a time." Here’s the publisher’s description of this collection:

Owning who we are is powerful. By embracing our bodies and owning our desires, we best experience beautiful, sensual, and intense sexual expression. The characters in Owning It love their bodies regardless of their physical limitations. In these pages, a Daddy and his 'little' explore the healing waters of a DD/lg dynamic. Others enjoy a wide range of sexual encounters and relationships from playful to intense, from straight to queer, from light to dark. These authors give us characters that truly own it.”

The idea of “owning it” includes proudly claiming your identity and recognizing how it informs your sex life, as well as managing issues of health and ability in ways that benefit sexual, physical and emotional wellness. My story in Owning It, “The Best Medicine,” focuses on these themes by repin’ the realness of race, class and wellness in a romantic-sexual relationship.

The story takes place at the beginning of Maddi and Freya’s relationship, when a particularly irritating minor health problem threatens to put the brakes on their new sex life. In this passage, Maddi has told Freya over the phone that she has a yeast infection. Freya, a self-described witch, proposes natural ways to cure the infection that are rejected by Maddi, who tends to look askance at anything that seems impractical and superstition-based. However, there’s one method Freya offers that Maddi can’t refuse:


Ohhh,” I heard Freya moan. “You know, Maddi, you could just eat yogurt instead of using the cream. Yogurt will cure you of yeast just as good.”

Yeah, yeah, Ms. All-Natural,” I dismissed her idea, like I do most of her hippie-dippy nature girl stuff. “It probably takes forever to work, like all those natural cures you’re into.”

A plain yogurt douche works, too,” she kept on.

Please, like I need something messier and slower than Monostat cream! Freya, my baby doll, I love you, but let up on that stuff sometimes!” I hated to even admit I was following some of her “food is the best medicine” advice, but I did it anyway:
I am eating yogurt on top of using the cream every day, though. I want to knock this shit out. But in the meantime, my poonani is off limits to you, baby!”

Hmmm…you know what? I could help you with this.”

What do you mean?”

I could…this weekend…give you some plain yogurt.”

Illlh!” I stuck my tongue out with disgust. “Plain yogurt with nothing in it?
There’s no way I’m eating that.”

Slowly and slyly, she said, “I didn’t say anything about giving it to you to eat.”

No. She. Ain’t. Talking. About... “Hooooh…hell naw, woman!”

A plain yogurt application—just what the natural health practitioner ordered!” she proclaimed, her voice high with triumph.

Mm-hm,” I conceded. “Aren’t you happy you’ve figured out a way you do your little natural girl thing on me?”

I’m happy I found a way where you would let me,” she replied, sounding as cheery as a chipmunk.

Are you itching (pun intended) to read about Freya’s sexy medicinal ministration to her lover Maddi? Then pick up a copy of Owning It: Embracing Our Bodies, Sexuality, and Power, where you can read this story as well as 14 others in which people of many genders, sexual orientations, races/ethnicities, classes, ages, abilities, sizes and kinks find health, hope and happiness through sexual healing.


Owning It on Amazon: http://amzn.to/2CB9t87
SynCyr Publishing info: https://sincyrpublishing.com/2018/03/24/owning-it-release-day/

About the Author

Stephani Maari Booker of Minneapolis, MN, writes prose and poetry for the page and for performance in which she wrestles with her multiple marginalized identities: African American, lesbian, lower-class, nerdy and sexy. She has nonfiction, science fiction, erotica and poetry in many publications. For more information about Stephani's work, go to www.mnartists.org/smbooker or www.goodreads.com/athenapm.

Giveaway!

Leave me a comment with your name and email, and I’ll enter you into a drawing for a free ebook of Owning It, courtesy of SynCyr Publishing.


Friday, April 13, 2018

Entrance by @JJSorel - #EroticRomance #Art #BillionaireRomance #Giveaway

Entrance cover

Blurb

Clarissa Moone is a young, classy, impoverished art history graduate. Her life transforms when she lands a job working for the enigmatic billionaire, Aidan Thornhill. As the contract stipulates that she reside at his lavish Malibu estate, Clarissa suddenly finds herself surrounded by jaw-dropping art and opulence. A significant step up from the run-down apartment she shares with her best friend.

Aidan Thornhill is a self-made billionaire whose earlier start in life was riddled with poverty and a dysfunctional upbringing. Running away from scandal, he joins the army and works his way up to the Special Forces. Accompanied by haunting memories, Thornhill re-enters civilian life with a million dollars gifted to him by a dying buddy. He travels to Europe where he develops a passion for art. And after many astute investments, he becomes one of LA’s wealthiest bachelors.

Voluptuous, intelligent and sensitive, Clarissa Moone's beauty makes Aidan gasp for air. But with a reputation that is as much invented as true, he has to convince Clarissa that he is not a heart-breaker. Aidan Thornhill’s movie-star looks, love of art and passionate support for the downtrodden, soon wins Clarissa’s heart, soul, and innocence.

After living a life devoted to intellectual pursuits and art, being new to love, she succumbs to her smoldering hot boss, who stops at nothing to pleasure her, sending Clarissa off into toe-curling ecstasy.

Behind the scenes, however, the claws are out. Determined to stir trouble, three characters, one of whom, a spoilt heiress, do everything to reap revenge.

With mutual burning passion impossible to extinguish, the couple's chemistry is so potent that their souls implode when Thornhill’s mysterious past threatens to drive a wedge between them. The former soldier goes into battle determined to have Clarissa even if it means losing everything.

Excerpt

Her stretched gaze nearly ate me alive. “Shit, Clary, he’s only the sexiest and most eligible billionaire in LA.” Without a moment to lose, she sprang up and tapped away on her laptop. “Come and have a look. Shit, he’s hot.”

Aidan Thornhill was indeed very good-looking. “He appears glum in every shot,” I said.

Tabitha leaned on her elbows and peered into the screen. “Hmm…the broody type. That makes him even sexier. Wow, imagine if you get the job.”

I haven’t got it yet, Tabs,” I said.

But you might. That’s the exciting bit.”

I sighed. “Let’s not jinx it. It’s better that way.”

Don’t be so negative, Clary. Remember that seminar we attended. If one projects positive thoughts, life will deliver.”

That’s new-age claptrap and a recipe for disappointment. At least this way, I’ll be ecstatic if I get it.” Standing over Tabi’s shoulder, I checked the images of my potential boss. In each photo, he appeared with different women, never the same one twice. “He’s got a thing for blondes.”

But wait till he sees you in a bikini.” Tabitha’s voice had gone up a decibel.

Now you’re being crazy. I’ll be working as a PA, not a model. I don’t even own a bikini. And if I did, I wouldn’t be wearing it to work.” I tilted my head. Tabitha’s mouth curled into a wide, contagious grin. Imagining me at a computer in a bikini made us giggle.

The sound of “La Marseillaise” blaring startled both of us. I must change that ringtone.

While I searched for my phone in my handbag, Tabitha was close at my heels like an eager puppy dog. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the button. “Hello.”

About the Author


Fifty Shades of Grey, was the first contemporary romance book I’d ever read. Up to that point, I’d spent my entire reading life buried in literature.

But then, one day, I picked up Fifty Shades of Grey and couldn’t put it down. Impressed by their heart-felt, down to earth portrayal of love and sex, I quickly developed a voracious appetite for contemporary romance books. I was so inspired by the genre that I decided to explore that world as a writer.

After completing a certificate in Writing Romance with the Australian College of Journalism I embarked on writing three books. All of which are still sitting on my computer.

Then Aidan Thornhill entered my imagination and came alive on paper. From that moment, like all emotional love stories, nothing else mattered. I fell in love. And was compelled to write, almost in a frenzy, every day without fail. I am presently working on my latest novel – The Importance of Being Wild.






NOTE: The book is on sale for only $0.99.





Giveaway!

J.J. Sorel will be awarding copies of the entire series (3 books in all) to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thursday, April 12, 2018

Protecting His Alien Mate - @clarechlochette #MM #Aliens #BDSM #MPreg

Protecting His Alien Mate cover

Blurb

Damian Shepard is no ordinary prison guard. He's a Solarian, an alien race that sought refuge on Earth over a century ago. They live peacefully and anonymously among humanity and prefer to live in the towns they have founded. Because they live longer and are stronger than humans, they’ve created their own system of justice designed specifically to punish members of their race who have committed crimes.

Shunned by his family for being gay, all Fletcher Voglar wants is a happily-ever-after with a sexy man who loves him. But when he is wrongfully sent to prison by a corrupt official, Fletcher gives up his dreams of having a life filled with love and happiness. One day Damian stumbles upon Fletcher during a routine check of the prisoners where he works. Instantly he knows that the frail yet beautiful human is his destined mate. Finding a mate is one thing but when that perfect man turns out to be an inmate at the prison where he works, Damian’s world is turned upside down.

But when the opportunity arises to get his mate out of there, Damian jumps at it. The crooked Solarians who threw Fletcher in prison are now after Damian too, and they won't stop until they’re both dead. Can Damian win Fletcher's heart and clear their names or will their enemies kill them before Damian gets a chance?

Excerpt

My little sub, on your knees,” Damian said.

In one graceful move, Fletcher obeyed.

Take everything off, pet.”

Fletcher winked as he slowly undressed. “I don't see why I bother to wear clothes around you, I end up taking them off anyway.”

Silence, little mate,” Damian said.

Why do I have to be quiet now? You seem to like the way I make noise in the bedroom.”

Damian chuckled. His little mate's cheeky nature was cute and sweet but very naughty.

You have now earned your first spanking,” Damian said.

Fletcher mouth hung open and his eyes were wide.

Why so surprised? You knowingly defied me.”

I didn't think you were actually going to do anything.”

You thought wrong.” Damian patted his lap. “Over my legs, ass up.”

Fletcher screwed his mouth into a crooked line.

Do I need to repeat myself?” Damian asked in a stern, controlled voice.

Fletcher said rolling his eyes. “No, sir.”

Then place yourself over my lap.”

Damian lifted his hands out of the way as Fletcher lay down over his thighs. It wasn’t graceful, but it got the job done. He had no doubt in time Fletcher would able to do it without fumbling around since Fletcher was a bit bratty.

I want you to count. I believe ten swats will be sufficient punishment.”

Yes, sir.”

Damian’s dick hardened. He closed his eyes and concentrated. This was all too exciting. Every inch of his dominant nature was being satisfied.

You need to pick a safe word. It's a code word to get me to stop if I take things too far.”

Sir, I have the word I want,” Fletcher said.

What is it?”

Velvet.”

Are you certain this is the word you want to use?” Damian asked amused. He expected the word red or something close to it. Leave it to Fletcher to choose such a gentle and soft word.

Yes, I'm sure.”

Then velvet it is.” Damian rubbed the globes of his ass with his large, calloused hands. Damian growled then exhaled a long breath.

This is not meant to hurt you but to teach you a lesson. If this becomes too much, I want you to tell me. Do not say the word stop. Use your safe word.”

Yes sir.” Fletcher said.

Because of your brattiness, you will receive ten strikes. You will count them out, is that clear?”

Yes, Master.”

I am not a tyrant. Nevertheless, I am your Dominant so you will respect me as such.”

Damian placed one of his hands on the center of Fletcher's back and ran his other hand over the twin pale globes situated right in front of him. Fletcher's ass was perfectly rounded and curved. After one smack, as the imprint of his hand came up in a nice rosy tint, Fletcher hissed, then his dick sprung to life.

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Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Clare-Dargin/e/B005CREN68/