A Little Background: Guest Post By Londra Laine

My guest today is Londra Laine, talking about her thought-provoking new MM romance novel, Living On The Inside. Londra, it’s great to have you at the Naughty Corner.

Thanks for having me! I’m so thrilled to be featured on the blog and to share a little about my new release Living on the Inside. This is my third self-published book and it marks my one-year authorversary. Here is a little background about what inspired the book.

Adrien and Micah have both spent much of their lives feeling like outsiders and then they meet each other. Micah is formerly incarcerated and out of work. He’s living in his baby mama’s guest house, trying to reconnect with thirteen-year-old son. Adrien is a successful business owner with a traumatic secret he’s been carrying around. Neither of them are looking for a relationship, and at first glance, the two seem like an unlikely pair. Adrien is Micah’s boss, they’ve had different upbringings, and neither of them trusts themselves. But eventually the co-workers become friends, then lovers and there is plenty of tension along the way.

For this book, I didn’t want the central point of tension to be the stereotypical bigoted families or the evil female ex. I wanted to show what I’ve personally experienced and seen with a lot of my own friends and family. Exes with great relationships and friendship, families that love and support their LGBTQ family member, but may have other family tension and problems. Bigotry won’t ever go away and I certainly don’t want to downplay that in any way. But I really wanted to focus on other family dynamics where my characters’ orientation isn’t central to the conflict.

My main characters are also an interracial couple. You should know that I am black, so writing black characters comes naturally to me and I understand the black experience first hand But I will say, the black experience is a human experience. As a kid, I saw more negative portrayals of black people than positive, so it’s important to me to show that black people are just people. We are multidimensional with the same interests, worries, and dreams as everyone else.

The Bright Bean coffee shop, Adrien’s cafe in the book, is inspired by a coffee shop I began frequenting when I was about thirteen, much like Caleb. I did community theater as a teenager and needed a place to do my homework between the end of school and the start of rehearsal, so I’d study at a coffee shop near the theater and rehearsal space. Whenever I go back home, I still visit the coffee shop.

Thanks for reading this guest post and I hope that you take a chance on Micah and Adrien! To learn more about my works in progress you can follow me on Twitter at @LondraLaine or on Facebook at @LondraLaineWrites

Title: Living on the Inside

Author: Londra Laine

Publisher: Independently Published

Release Date: Tuesday, January 29, 2019

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: About 55,000 words

Genre: Romance, single dad, gay romance, interracial, ex-con, domestic abuse, work romance

Add to Goodreads

Blurb:

Micah Grayson lives in his baby mama’s guesthouse. It’s unconventional and awkward, but he’s happy for a chance to reconnect with his teenage son. He doesn’t have time for other distractions—no matter how sexy, independent, and compassionate that distraction might be. Besides, he’s not good enough for more than a fling—no one would ever take him home to meet their parents.

Adrien Darling has book smarts, but no street savvy—at least that’s what his family says. And after a heart-breaking betrayal by the man meant to love and protect him, Adrien believes them. But then a gorgeous guy with a defeated look in his eyes walks into Adrien’s coffee shop and makes him want to take a chance.

After years of living on the outside as two misfits looking in, both men are afraid to reach for more. But in each other’s arms, Micah and Adrien find out what it’s like to live on the inside. As their tender bond grows and blossoms, old insecurities bubble to the surface. Will their commitment crumble under the pressure? Or will the two find the strength to fight for each other.

Please be aware that this book contains a flashback of and several references to domestic abuse that may be triggering to some readers.

Purchase at Amazon

Excerpt:

“Is that what we are?” Micah asked quietly. “Friends?”

“Yeah,” Adrien answered. “I hope so.”

Then he was surrounded by Micah’s body. Adrien hesitated for a moment before returning the other man’s embrace, locking his arms around Micah’s torso. A few seconds into the hug all the reasons why he needed to pull away from Micah—now—raced through his mind. But he couldn’t make himself do it.

Adrien had been fighting his attraction, but the man had slipped past Adrien’s defenses. Micah’s earnest joy at making progress with his son. His trust in Adrien as he shared his insecurities. His nonjudgmental attitude. Their growing friendship. All those things made him feel strong and needed. Adrien wanted more of that feeling. He leaned into Micah.

Micah sighed as he squeezed Adrien tighter, and Adrien’s body sagged against him, the fight against his attraction to Micah leaving his body. He tucked his head into the crook of Micah’s shoulder, and gave in to defeat, breathing in the salty sweet scent of Micah’s skin, running his palms up the man’s back.

The scent and feel of Micah was heady, and Adrien’s head swam as he let his eyelids flutter shut, let his lips graze the exposed skin between Micah’s neck and shoulder. Micah tensed against him and his breath hitched, making Adrien wonder if he’d gone too far. But then Micah’s palm slid up Adrien’s neck, cupping his nape, grazing a thumb along his hairline.

Micah moved his other hand lower, resting it right above Adrien’s ass, his fingers lightly grazing the swell below Adrien’s hips.

“Adrien,” Micah grated out. Adrien pulled back, slowly opening his eyes. Micah licked his lips, his eyes skimming Adrien’s mouth, and then he leaned forward.

Adrien met him halfway, their lips connecting in a kiss. The light brush became a firm press then flared, hot and wet, as Adrien ran the tip of his tongue against the seam of Micah’s lips. Micah submitted to Adrien’s silent request, parting his lips to give Adrien access to his tongue and mouth.

Then a loud honk made them jerk apart as a car sped past them, headlights bright and blinding. Their chests heaved, and Adrien took in Micah’s disheveled hair and damp lips and wondered if he looked nearly as enticing to Micah.

Adrien’s gaze skittered away, and he grimaced, embarrassment replacing the intense need he’d felt moments ago. What was he doing? He knew better than this. He’d been down this road before. He couldn’t get involved with an employee again.

Then a terrible thought occurred to him. What if Micah felt like he had to hook up with Adrien? Had Adrien pressured him in some way? Shit. Negative thoughts tumbled through his mind, making him dizzy. He had to nip this in the bud.

“Micah, about what just happened—”

“Our kiss?” Micah moved closer to him.

Adrien’s eyes wandered, unable to meet Micah’s. “Yeah, the kiss. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry.” He shook his head and Micah stopped the motion by gripping Adrien’s chin between his forefinger and thumb. He lifted Adrien’s face to his.

“I’m not sorry.” Micah’s voice was quiet in the night.

Meet the Author:

Londra has loved reading since she figured out how to do it. She writes to give her guys the happy ending she wishes everyone––no matter their race, religion, gender, or orientation––could experience in real life.

Londra makes money as a communications manager. She is a former journalist, a runner and a mezzo soprano.

In 2010, she moved from her native California to New York City where she lived in Harlem for nearly eight years. In early 2018 she relocated to Seattle with her spouse.

Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | eMail | Queer Romance Ink

Tour Schedule:

2/4 Love Bytes Reviews 

2/5 Joyfully Jay 

2/6 Divine Magazine 

2/7 The (Really) Naughty Corner 

2/8 Books, Tattoos and Tea 

Prize Giveaway:

Londra is giving away a $25 Amazon voucher to one lucky reader. You can enter the Rafflecopter giveaway here.

This tour was organised by Indigo Marketing & Design

 

 

 

My Initial Inspiration: My Husband – Guest Post By A P Von K’Ory

A P Von K’Ory is my guest today, talking about the inspiration behind her work and her intense new romance trilogy, the Golden Shana series. Nice to have you here, A P!

Although I’d been writing nonfiction political/humanitarian books before, meeting my husband inspired my first romance novel. At the time I lived in both London and Geneva and did my first internship with the ILO Headquarters.  I had been assigned to this charming and cultured older man as his interpreter, because I’d translated several of his papers from French and German into English. So in a way I already ‘knew’ him.  We eventually discovered that we both had the sort of childhood we had not been happy with, but had to adhere to out of duty to our families.

We both bore the straitjacket of “to the manner born”, which threw a number of stumbling boulders in our path when we finally wanted to get married. We weren’t merely different in terms of culture and ethnicity; we also came from different continents.

After we got married regardless, I often discuss with my husband what being a Luo aristocrat culturally means. Despite all other heritage and cultural influences that converge in me, I most strongly identify with Luoland and the Luos. I was born in Kenya, but I’ve spent most of my life in Europe; from preparatory school in Yorkshire to universities in Britain, India, Germany and Switzerland.

My husband also has French and German aristocratic heritage, and has lived most of his life in Franconia, Bavaria. So the more we delve into the vagaries of our mutual attraction to each other, the more we uncover about ourselves. We often talk till the small hours about our customs, rites and rituals, religious beliefs and societal norms.

We’ve become a thousand shades of archaeological discoveries.

This is how I came to write my first romance novels, the Bound to Tradition trilogy, the love story of a Kenyan girl, Khira, and a Swedish industrialist, Erik. Once the books were written and my husband read them in the German translation, it was clear that one or two things had to be explained to the readers. In particular were the Luo terms of endearment and nicknames which may confuse readers because they defy both logic and reality. A male may address a female as “father, grandfather” or “mother, grandmother”, irrespective of age. A female may do exactly the same when affectionately addressing a man. Likewise parents address their children with these terms of endearment whether the child is a boy or a girl, an infant, a teenager or an adult, including grownup children who are already married and have children of their own.

Luos revere their forebears and hold them in high regard. “Without them,” so the belief, “we wouldn’t be here, and they continue to be in our progeny.” The older one gets the more they gain respect and reverence. Youth is not worshipped in Luoland; quite the opposite. I had to inform my readers to view these endearment terms as no different from other cultures whose terms of endearment are angel, precious, honey, heart, mouse, soul, darling or sweetheart, irrespective of age or gender.

Another “confuser” in the trilogy is the word disease. Luos use this as a curse word because, from time immemorial, they associate disease with ungodliness, crime, divine punishment or lack of personal hygiene. It can be used on its own or in a phrase or sentence.

Bound to Tradition trilogy has won me numerous awards and prizes in Europe and America. It was little wonder then, that when I wanted to write something erotic, I reverted to the youngest daughter of Khira and Erik, Svadishana (Golden Shana), as my heroine. But I wanted her and Roman to have conflicts that were unique and not ordinarily associated with love affairs. I also wanted them to have an unusual eroticism in their love affair. To this end, I invented and copyrighted the terms I used explicitly for them for the first time: Domristocrat (Domri), Subristocrat (Subri), Sophisterotica and McErotica, to name but these. Of course, I stole and still steal a lot of their sizzling sex scenes from my husband and myself.

Luckily, I didn’t have to write a glossary for my inventions. They were self-explanatory in my writing. Above all else, I wanted to share them with others.

Blurb: Golden Shana: The Chase (Book 1)

An evening at the opera house La Scala in Milan twirled the lives of five people into a web of intrigues, heartaches, human hunts, loss and revenge.

Roman: I never chased after a woman. It was always the other way around. Then I caught a glimpse of the woman I would kneel for, at the opera, and I didn’t even know her name. But I determined to find her if it took me the rest of my life.

Shana: He stood in the room with her. The frisson in the currents freaking between them was as solid as a steel portal. The mutual force of predator and prey blasted its way into her core … her soul … Danger. Keep far away from him.

Marie: Some men were born to rule the world; others were born to ruin it. Roman Alastair Northcott Broughton Castell was born to do both. But she loved him and awaited his baby.

Alyssa: He was the lover she wouldn’t tire of. Roman had something so damned perilous about him he was addictive. Who gets addicted to safe and riskless? Not her.

Grieg/Phoenix: Had His Girl interpreted that Friday night as abuse? He’d only done what she wanted – protection of her cherished innocence.

Excerpt from Golden Shana: The Chase (Book 1)

What a difference a day makes… And it hadn’t been a day. It had been an evening in Milan. Brief moments of an evening. I didn’t care about the consequences to whomever. Through my obsession with Svadishana I became aware of the fact that I was a person. A human being, not an almighty god, with all the baggage that comes with being that. I too – eureka! – had a heart pumping white and red corpuscles through my veins. Blood, not icicles.

Was it love I felt for Svadishana? A woman I’d spoken three whiny words – Please call me! – to? Was it more than simple lust and desire? Did I want to possess more than just her body?

Pondering these questions alone was so unlike me. That woman had turned me into an alien even unto my own self. What I felt, my inner voice said, was more than the thrill of the hunt. More than lust, desire, need, passion, the excitement of possession, and subjugation.

Of course all that was part of it. But the basis or the source, the seedbed on which all that sprouted and was growing to full blossom in me, could well be something else.

When I thought of her, saw her image from Milan in my mind, watched how she moved in long smooth strides in YouTube, my brow beaded with sweat. I couldn’t pull my gaze away from the few photos I’d fished out of the Internet. Group photos at a family birthday or the authorized biography of her father. Her movements in a YouTube conference clip were springy and powerful even in their smoothness. She exuded strength all over the place, laughing, talking, gesticulating.

A breath-taking beauty. Such beauty that I dared not believe it at times.

And brains to go with it.

In love or not, I knew what I wanted and Svadishana was the answer. I wanted her and would do anything short of suicide to get her. Who knows – perhaps when it came to that as the only means available, I’d really murder too. I didn’t in the least care about the consequences, as long as they got me to where I wanted to get to.

Svadishana’s arms and knickers and… heart?

What obsession, Roman. Get back to real.

No chance. Real was Svadishana.

Blurb: Golden Shana: The Capture (Book 2)

Roman finally gets together with Shana. But he finds himself wedged between three women and the man intent on killing him because of Shana. And there’s the secret of Marie’s unborn baby.

Roman: I wanted to eat all of her. Even within that fortress I longed to erect around her to hold her captive in, to keep her away from men not worthy of the sight of her, I’d devour her.

Shana: Roman was deadly sex. She had no antigenic for immunity against him. Instead she lay there on his bed, in an impossible state of sluttish disarray, holding her breath.

Marie: “So you didn’t bring your rich old cow with you.” The bitch was ten years older than her, years older than Roman himself. Weren’t men supposed to prefer younger women?

Alyssa: She was not going to let Roman treat her like a hole in the air. He started this triangle and she was going to make it equilateral.

Grieg/Phoenix: His philosophy stated that peace was bondage, and war was freedom. His Girl was his territory, and no other man’s.

Excerpt from Golden Shana: The Capture (Book 2)

I picked her up and carried her like a bride. Or a sleeping child. She nuzzled between my neck and shoulder. I kicked the door shut behind us.

We were both ablaze, and I needed to check that, wind it down a notch.

“Like to lie down on the sofa and cuddle till we both slow down a bit?”

“Bed.” Her voice vibrated against my neck.

We left the entrance hall behind us. The flames kept on leaping.

“Overriding my sensible decision?”

“Yes. Bed.” Tremulous once, tremulous twice.

“Just got me, and you want to run away with it.” I bore her past the living room.

“Bed.”

“I’m getting a restraining order on you.” I took the first stair, chest tight again.

She lifted her head off my shoulder and her Huskies sent megawatts to my blues. Unveiled desire. My balls clenched. At this degree I risked coming where I stood with her in my arms. I was tempted to close my eyes and summon my control. For the first time I felt life surge through my veins for a woman, the whole woman, not just sex with her. Again, I experienced that powerful instinct in me to guard and protect her, the fragile and most precious thing in my life. She had a pull on every cell in me. Her masses of loose curls gave warm slaps through my chinos to my hip, sending the sergeant into planning guerrilla warfare for its freedom.

The witch. I was hypnotized. I had to stop climbing the stairs and get my head cleared. She was as necessary to me as the air I breathed, yet she knocked that air straight out of my lungs. Her naked desire was intoxicating. Insanity mingled with reality. I really had her back in my arms. She came to me, came to my home for the first time. And ordered Bed, not a mutual shower. She was the first and only woman to take me to this Newland. She was my perfect balance. I’d fallen hard and didn’t even want to get back up. It happens to the worst of us ingrained rogue playboys.

The Huskies still pinned me in Newland. “Skirting around the deed, are we?”

“Protecting my golden goddess.”

For sheer survival, I broke the lock of our eyes and started up the stairs again.

Blurb: Golden Shana: The Untouchable (Book 3)

Roman doesn’t even want a harem. But the harem relentlessly seeks him. No sooner has Shana left Roman than Grieg/Phoenix is marking time on Roman’s door, out for a war, not a fight, over Shana. And so is Marie, whose pregnancy Roman still keeps a secret.

Roman: I loved owning women. Then I found my woman. But she would never be owned, not even by the gods. She left me. Still, her dangerous admirer and I began wars over her, not merely street fisticuffs.

Shana: Roman scares me in every way and the fear excites me. I’m brainless in his arms, brainless just from thinking about him. He makes me navigate so many labyrinthine passages and secret doors that I’d never even been aware of before. My body knelt and wept for him. My common sense made me flee from him while I could.

Marie: I sold Roman my heart and soul. Only to realise my body had not been consulted, and was therefore out for war.

Alyssa: I really got all that about Roman. The super-ink indelibility of him, the substance of him that stamped his four-figure-euro Ferragamo Oxfords, the supernatural charisma that rocketed him all the way up there with Lucifer. His square would never fit my round. But hope springs eternal, right?

Grieg: “If I have whoever your girl is, why don’t you simply come over and take me off her or her off me?” Roman had not reacted like a man who had received that damning message. Over the phone, he’d sounded as if he didn’t have a single feather ruffled. Time to start the war.

Excerpt from Golden Shana: The Untouchable (Book 3)

I heard him change the phone to the other ear. “Castell, you’re a kid running a billion-euro crib, you pervert.”

My system actually waged wars for me to jump out of my skin. Control, Castell.

“Oh, yes. I’m about as straight as the U-bend under a sink, fuckwit. So is this the problem? A pissing contest based on having some beef about your wallet being a little anorexic in comparison? Have I got that bracketed?” I heard him swallow again. I decided on a blind knock on that, although for all I knew he was drinking water. “By the way, I’d ease up on the drink. Otherwise you won’t manage to solve the square root of bugger all, let alone remember if you have any other name but Sggirb.”

“I know you right up to your fucking perve room, Castell. I delivered the CD—had the CD delivered – right into your fucking office, practically into your hands. You know nothing about me. So you better watch your smart mouth.”

“Ah, you thought you’d simply storm the Bastille that’s my home and be discreet about it, then slink into my office building and show me the dot over the i that amounts to your balls? You’re right, I know nothing about you. You’re not even in my periphery, private or public.”

“I’m not a ball of yarn to your kitten, so watch your fucking mouth, Castell!”

Just to keep him put off his stroke, “Who would you say has all the tools for annihilation, fuckwit, the kitten or the yarn?”

“You’re lucky I’m—”

“Luck is basically mythical. Reality is called chance. How about we meet?”

He said nothing.

Not good, because now that I was screwing him hard, I needed to keep up the pace. So I said, “You could make it your mud hole or you could haul your arse back here to my city. Then we roll up our sleeves, or whisk off our T-shirts. Then we start doing a little tribute to Muhammad Ali out in the Congo with Joe Frazier.”

He said nothing. I heard him swallow at intervals during the silence. “I’m rapt with attention, fuckwit Sggirb, so let’s have a date and then – to quote your countryman –you are an American – float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”

“You think you’re so fucking cool…” He rumbled the word out long: Coooooollll…

“Oh, I don’t just think it.”

“Just keep your hands off her, Castell. Keep your hands off My Girl!”

“If I have whoever your girl is, why don’t you simply come over and take me off her or her off me?” I paused for a reply, none came. “Or is this the sheep being docile until they get utterly famished?” Another pause. Silence, so I continued, “You sound like you wouldn’t find a clitoris if you were armed with a compass, street map and a fucking NASA telescope.”

“You can’t intimidate me, Castell.”

Which only exposed to me the wound I’d ripped open in him. Time to add chilli.

Buy Links In Kindle – Please note that the books are also available in paperbacks:

The Chase, UK Kindle

The Capture, UK Kindle

The Untouchable, UK Kindle

The Chase, US Kindle

The Capture, US Kindle

The Untouchable, US Kindle

The Untouchable, UK paperback edition

Connect With A P Van K’Ory:

Website

Twitter 

Facebook Author Page

Facebook Timeline

Facebook Golden Shana Series

Facebook Editor/Services

Facebook AuthorMePro Press

Facebook Readers & Reviewers 

Amazon Author Page

GIVEAWAY!

Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here:

Click here to enter for your chance to win a Kindle copy of one of A P von K’Ory’s backlist books!

This tour was organised by Writer Marketing Services.

My Favourite Song: Guest Post by Karen Botha

I have a few songs which have sentimental value, we all do I guess, we sit with the radio on in the background and then all of a sudden we are transported back to a time we thought we’d forgotten by the playing of a few bars of a tune.

One of those songs for me is Fleetwood Mac, The Chain.  It used to be the theme tune to the Formula 1 Grand Prix when I was a kid growing up. And I loved it, partly because it is a great song, even now. But also because it signified the highlight of my week was about to begin. Those first few bars still raise my blood pressure, by a few beats per minute.

I remember sitting on the floor in my dad’s lounge going through his old record collection and finding that he had this album. I couldn’t believe my luck! I took that album into my bedroom and I played it on repeat for the next year and now I love all those songs, but of course, The Chain is still my favorite.

That’s why Elliott became a racing driver in Buckle Up. I needed him to be in a testosterone heavy environment and what fits that better than motor racing? I love the way my covers have turned out, they’re so moody which for me is representative of everything that motor sport is. There are good days and bad days and no-one knows which curve ball will be thrown your way until you’re slap bang in the middle of it — just like life, and love.

Title: Commitment, A Gay Romance Series Collection

Series: Buckle Up #1, G-Force #2 & Jump Start #3

Author: Karen Botha

Publisher: Self-Published

Release Date: October 18th

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 612 pages

Genre: Romance, MM Romance

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis:

On the road of life, passion is what drives us, but love makes us stay the course.

Elliott Judd is a superstar race car driver and hotter than hell. Men and women fall at his feet and he enjoys the easy pickings.

Kyle Beaumont, a straight mechanic with a body to die for, joins the racing team of his dreams with his mind fixed on the job.

But as the racing seasons come and go, these men realize they might be racing to the same trophy, each other. With their physical and emotional exploits driven to new depths, they face devastating disruptions when the past crashes into them. Are their feelings for each other enough to keep them on the right track?
Find how passion and lust turn to love, and whether these driven men focus on happiness in the journey or the destination in this hot, sexy three-book m m romance series.

Download your copy of this gay romance series, Commitment Collection 1 – 3 now.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

This Commitments book is part of a fiction series of m/m gay romance books. The books included in this lgbt romance collection are the first three books; Buckle Up, G-Force and Jump Start. The rest of the mm romance books in this gay series, Ignition, Turbo Charged and Pole Position may be downloaded on kindle or purchased separately as paperbacks.

Buckle Up #1

Passion, lust and desire are the fuel that drives us. So, buckle up for the ride of your life.

Elliott Judd is a superstar race car driver and hotter than hell. Men and women fall at his feet and he enjoys the easy pickings. No one has tamed this wild stallion, but is he ready to settle down for the right person?

Kyle Beaumont, a straight mechanic with a body to die for joins the racing team of his dreams, and with his mind fixed on the job, he doesn’t realise that he is Elliott’s next trophy of choice.

As the racing season and the fight to be the world number one starts, so too does Elliott’s game of seduction.
Will Elliott crash and burn, or will Kyle succumb to this gorgeous man’s onslaught?

Buckle Up is the first book in a gay romance series by Karen Botha and a story of unlikely love.

G-Force #2

Love breeds intensity.
Intensity breeds passion.

Recovered from a life-threatening accident, Kyle Beaumont is a powerhouse who is eager to show Elliott Judd just how far he can push his hotter than ever physique. Their physical and emotional exploits are driven to a depth neither has ever experienced with anyone else.

As a racing driver superstar, Elliott loves handling power, and he’s geared up for taking everything Kyle throws his way. In fact, he craves it. But, when the past smashes into their lives, is the couple prepared to handle possibly devastating disruptions?

Set in a world of fast cars, intense love, and a burning desire to win at all costs, this is a love story brimming with unbridled lust. Join Elliott and Kyle as they race their demons to the finish line in hopes of taking home the ultimate prize-their undying love.

Jump Start #3

Falling in love is easy.
Making it work, well, that’s where the fun begins.

Falling in love with Kyle Beaumont helped Elliott Judd find a romantic piece of himself he didn’t know existed. The two men take the next step in their relationship when Kyle moves into Elliott’s place, but despite the passion he feels for his talented mechanic and lover, the scorching hot race car driver suddenly feels out of place in his own home.

Kyle adores Elliott, and thinks of him as the love of his life he didn’t see coming. But calling a mansion home and fitting into Elliott’s space is more of a culture shock than he’d anticipated.Join Kyle and Elliott as they adjust to sharing their lives with one another, both in and out of the spotlight. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, and you’ll wonder if these two will ever get it right.

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Author

Ooh, where to start? I used to work in a proper job that was KILLING me — slowly! I packed it all in and retrained as a massage therapist and reflexologist which meant I had downtime to fill and I knew just the thing.

So, now I spend more hours than I work in my office conjuring up all manner of sex scenes and scrapes. I say I’m so happy because I have whichever imaginary friends with me, doing exactly what I like, when I want. Who could ask for more? Hah!

By the way, now I have NO downtime.

Please follow me, I’m on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram and I have my own website, www.KarenBotha.com. It would be great to get some interaction from you guys. Much as I love my imaginary friends, it’s great to speak to real people too.

eMail

Tour Schedule

10/22 – Divine Magazine

10/23 – MM Good Book Reviews

10/24 – The (Really) Naughty Corner

10/25 – Valerie Ullmer | Romance Author

10/26 – My Fiction Nook

Rafflecopter Giveaway!

Karen is giving a $25 Amazon gift card to one lucky winner. Click here to enter, and good luck!

This blog tour was put together by Indigo Marketing & Design

 

Force of Nature – Guest Post by J.K. Hogan

My guest today is J.K. Hogan, talking about her new M/M adventure, Force of Nature. Welcome to the Naughty Corner, J.K. 

Hi folks! Thanks for joining me to celebrate my new release, Force of Nature, the fourth book in the Coming About series. In this story, we’ve left Seattle for the North Cascades, where our hero Neal has traveled to for a survival adventure with a professional wilderness guide. He gets a little more than he bargained for!

I thought I’d talk a little bit about where the concept of this story came from. I admit to being a bit of a survival show junkie. I used to watch Man vs. Wild quite religiously, along with a lot of the other shows of that type. I grew up camping, fishing, boating, etc, but it had never occurred to me to write a story like this until the pilot episode of Running Wild with Bear Grylls came on. Grylls was taking a celebrity guest (Zac Efron) through the Appalachian mountains, which is a fairly tame trek compared to his usual destinations.

The interaction between the two of them was hilarious (at least for me), because Zac seemed to be as much of a survival show junkie as I am, because he was so stoked about being there, and he had a huge amount of blatant hero worship going on. He also kept hugging Bear every time he’d get excited about something, and it was really funny to watch Bear awkwardly put up with it. Plus it was thirty mins of two fit guys doing outdoorsy stuff, sometimes with their shirts off, so there was that.

Anyway, since I knew that there were people out there for hire to take people on wilderness adventures, a plot bunny was born. Thanks ever so to Zac Efron and Bear Grylls for planting the seed. LOL!

About The Book

Title: Force of Nature

Series: Coming About, #4

Author: J.K. Hogan

Publisher: Euphoria Press (self)

Release Date: 7/4/17

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 80,000 words

Genre: Romance, contemporary, adventure

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35446330-force-of-nature

Synopsis

Everyone knows that bonds formed under extreme circumstances never last.

Harbor Patrol officer Neal Hesse has had his life turned upside down by a sudden break-up with his partner of ten years. After sleeping his way through Seattle failed to take his mind off his broken heart, he decides to take a leave of absence from work to find himself again. He hires a professional wilderness guide to take him up into the mountains, so he can get away from everything and live off the grid for a few days.

Travis “Rock” McCreary, ex-Army Ranger turned survivalist, hates doing guided excursions, but it’s his primary source of income while he’s working towards getting his own survival show. Working in such a testosterone-fueled profession has forced him so deep into the closet, he feels like he might never see the light of day again, which makes it even harder to put on a friendly face for his happy, normal clients.

When Rock is hired by clumsy city-boy Neal to take him up into the North Cascades for a survival adventure, his patience and his resolve are tested at every turn. He has to teach Neal to survive in the wilderness while fighting an attraction he can’t allow himself to act on. When their trip doesn’t go as planned, Neal’s getaway turns into a true survival situation, and he and Rock are forced to rely on each other to stay alive. If they make it out of the wilderness, can their newfound connection survive in the real world?

Excerpt

Neal didn’t see how this was supposed to help take his mind off his ex because, as they trudged up the trail mostly in silence, he had nothing but time to think. Time to think about how he’d fallen for and spent years with a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He thought he’d been settled, that Tony was The One, that they had been on their way to growing old together. How wrong he’d been.

When the party reached an overlook at the highest point on the trail, they stopped for a panoramic view of the waterfall. Even Neal had to admit, with the sun streaming into the gorge and casting rainbows from the mist, it was a beautiful sight. It was still hard to drag himself out of his head, though. He knew his friends meant well, and they were right, of course. He needed to get up, get out, get back on the proverbial horse of life. But he didn’t wanna. He wanted to be at home on the couch moping, damn it.

He wished for that even harder when he saw the so-called trail that descended from the overlook to the foot of the falls where hikers could walk around or swim on warm-enough days. This trail was also steps, but natural ones of smooth, flat rock. It was narrow. Very narrow, and the lower part had a thin coat of slime from the water spray and mud. So it was fucking slippery.

When he’d almost made it to the flat riverbed, Neal lost his footing on a slick rock. He barely avoided taking a tumble—probably would’ve cracked his skull open—but he gained his balance again at the last moment. He breathed a sigh of relief when he stepped off that part of the trail. The falls dumped into a wide open part of the gorge, forming a broad pool that was bordered by a large, semicircular bank of river rock. There, day-hikers and tourists spread out on the rocks, picnicking, sunning themselves, or generally just taking in the scenery. Neal’s friends spread out to do their own thing.

Addison stalked off to the tree line with her cell phone, probably trying to get a signal so she could call her girlfriend. Bennett led Rory around the edge of the pond so they could get close to the actual waterfall. He was wearing a chest harness that held his Go-Pro, the action camera he usually kept on his boat. Rich and Paddy sat down on some large rocks and got out their trail snacks. And Nic Valentine, the crazy fucker, was wading in the frigid pool while Justice looked on, shaking his damn head.

Neal shivered just thinking about it. It was the tail-end of summer, so it was still quite warm, but these high lakes and rivers were always brisk, even on the hottest days. He’d been trained to withstand cold water temperatures for marine rescues, but that didn’t mean he had to like it, and he certainly didn’t do it for fun. Turning away from the splashing idiot, Neal looked around at all of the tourists and vacationers. Everyone had phones out, taking pictures, and he was sure they were tweeting and Instagramming like mad whenever they could find a bar or two.

He shook his head, then smirked and took his own phone out. “When in Rome,” he muttered. First, he snapped a picture with the reverse camera of himself with the waterfall in the background. Then he flipped the view so he could get a shot of the gorge. His frame wasn’t wide enough, so he took a few steps back, mindful of the rocks that became more slippery the closer he got to the falls.

His foot slipped and plopped down into water still cold enough to make him gasp, and right at the same time, he backed into something hard. Solid. Something alive. Neal winced when he heard an outraged cry and a splash behind him. Oh, fuck. Had he just…knocked someone into the water? He knew he needed to make sure they weren’t hurt or anything, but damn, he was afraid to turn around…because that had not felt like a small person.

Cautiously, he turned around and looked down, where he saw a man flailing around in the shallows of the pool. Once he got control of his feet, the man sprang up in the perfect kip-up. Neal cringed when he saw that his clothes and trail pack were completely soaking wet. And when he looked at the man’s face, he froze. His brain registered three things almost simultaneously: he looked vaguely familiar, he was very attractive, and he was really fucking mad.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” the stranger shouted.

He stepped forward so aggressively that Neal backed up, and his right hand went instinctively to his hip, where he would’ve put his hand on the stock of his service weapon—only there was nothing there because he was off duty.

Not wanting to seem like an equal aggressor, he covered the move by sticking his hand in his pocket, hoping to appear non-threatening. This guy was about his age and shorter by a few inches, but he was ripped. He looked rugged and whipcord strong and looked ready to kick some ass in a heartbeat. Neal might’ve been able to take him—he had him on height and weight, but the guy looked like he might be stronger…and a lot meaner. Neal really didn’t want to fight. That was a helluva lot of paperwork.

He held his arms out in front of him, both as a gesture of peace and to stave off an attack if that were to happen. “Man, I am so sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was behind me.”

“Clearly,” he growled, shrugging out of his pack. He unzipped it and started digging through it.

“Again, really sorry. If anything in your pack got damaged, I’ll reimburse you.”

He scowled at me. “This is a waterfall hike. I’m not an idiot. Anything of value is inside a dry bag.”

Neal bristled because the guy was basically calling him and everyone with him an idiot because they hadn’t brought dry bags. They’d just figured they could avoid, you know, falling in the water. Probably should’ve planned better, because if Neal hadn’t knocked into this guy, it would’ve been him in the water. But Neal had been the one to cause the fall, so he tried not to let his attitude get to him. “If you need a towel, I think one of my friends might’ve brought one.”

He sat down on a large, flat rock and pulled off his hiking shoes, probably to let them dry a little in the sun. His socks looked dry, so Neal assumed his footwear was waterproof. That also would’ve been a good idea, since Neal’s right sneaker was soggy as hell from stepping in the water.

The guy shook his head and didn’t make eye contact. “I’ve got more hiking to do. I’ll air-dry. Just try not to drown anyone, will ya?”

Neal’s eyes narrowed, and he fought a valiant battle not to tell the guy to fuck off. Instead, he fell back on his usual façade of charm and reached out a hand. “I’m Neal. Wish it had been under better circumstances, but it’s nice to meet you.”

His mega-watt smile, the one that had gotten him laid all the time when he was with Tony and before, bounced off this angry stranger like he had some kind of nice-guy force field. He glared at the proffered hand until Neal got the hint and put it back in his pocket. Just when he was about to say ‘fuck it’ and walk away, the guy mumbled, “Travis.”

“Pardon?” Neal asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Name’s Travis.”

“Well…Travis. It’s been a pleasure. I’ll get out of your hair.” About maxed out on politeness, Neal turned on his heel and started walking, stumbling slightly on the wet stones.

“Hey, Neal?”

He turned and looked at Travis. “Yeah?”

“You should stick to walking in the park or going to the gym. You don’t belong out here.”

Rage burned in Neal’s gut. He’d apologized profusely, and this guy just wouldn’t let it go. Where the hell did he get off? “The fuck did you say to me? I’ll have you know, I’m a police officer.”

Bennett had obviously picked up on the tone because Neal sensed his partner and Paddy creeping up on his flanks.

Travis’s eyes flicked back and forth between the three men, then he shook his head with a scoffing sound. “I’m just trying to give you some advice. It’s guys like you who come out here and fall down into the ravine because you don’t have the instincts to pay the fuck attention to where you put your feet.”

Neal lunged forward, but Bennett stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Nuh-uh. Walk away, Hesse.”

“But—”

“Nope.” Paddy started pulling him backward.

Travis spoke again, and the sound of his voice grated over Neal’s nerves like sandpaper. “I’m not just trying to be an asshole, although I’d be justified, considering.” He gestured down at his wet clothes. “But seriously, if you want to be all outdoorsy and shit? Get yourself some survival training, because you seem pretty fucking hopeless.”

Neal growled and lunged again, but was stopped by his two strong friends.

“Aaaand we’re done here,” Bennett said, as he and Patrick hauled Neal to the other side of the river where the rest of their group was waiting.

“Come on, just one swing!” Neal shouted over his shoulder. It was just for show because his pride was more bruised than he wanted to let on, but the boys kept a firm grip on him just in case.

Why the fuck did it matter that some asshole stranger thought he was incompetent? But Neal knew the answer to that—because his own boyfriend had as well. Tony had basically unmanned him by suggesting Neal’s career and choices didn’t matter, and now some random guy was telling him he couldn’t even wipe his own ass without help.

Neal seethed quietly all the way back down the trail. He’d never see that crazy fucknut again, but he’d be damned if he’d let the guy be right. So as soon as he got back, he booked himself on a survival excursion with a professional wilderness guide. That’d show that asshole. The one he would never see again.

Purchase Links

Euphoria Press (self): http://jkhogan.com/force-of-nature/

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B073FKY2QB

Meet the Author

J.K. Hogan has been telling stories for as long as she can remember, beginning with writing cast lists and storylines for her toys growing up. When she finally decided to put pen to paper, magic happened. She is greatly inspired by all kinds of music and often creates a “soundtrack” for her stories as she writes them. J.K. is hoping to one day have a little something for everyone, so she’s branched out from m/f paranormal romance and added m/m contemporary romance. Who knows what’s next?

J.K. resides in North Carolina, where she was born and raised. A true southern girl at heart, she lives in the country with her husband and two sons, a cat, and two champion agility dogs. If she isn’t on the agility field, J.K. can often be found chasing waterfalls in the mountains with her husband, or down in front at a blues concert. In addition to writing, she enjoys training and competing in dog sports, spending time with her large southern family, camping, boating and, of course, reading! For more information, please visit http://www.jkhogan.com.

Author Links

Website: http://jkhogan.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/OfficialJKHogan/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JK_Hogan

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6427555.J_K_Hogan

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+JKHogan

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jkhoganbooks/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/J.K.-Hogan/e/B008UXO15E

Email: jkhogan@gmail.com

Tour Schedule

7/10 MM Good Book Reviews

7/11 Bayou Book Junkie

7/12 The Novel Approach

7/13 The (Really) Naughty Corner

7/13 We Three Queens

7/14 Love Bytes Reviews

Giveaway

J.K. Hogan is offering a $10.00 Amazon Gift Card to one lucky reader. To enter the Rafflecopter giveaway, click here.

Tour organized by IndiGo Marketing & Design

Borghild – Automaton or Nazi Sex Doll?: Guest Post By S. Nano

Mistress Of The Air is a comic, Steampunk, erotic adventure. Edwardian dominatrix, Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester, travels across the Empires of Europe in her airship, The Corseted Domme. Lady Sally takes an array of electric and steam-powered sex toys on her adventures with her.

One of the dastardly devices is Borghild – a gleaming, brass automaton with rubber lips and vagina. She’s a sex-doll used by Lady Sally to torment the submissive gentlemen on her airship adventure.

She’s not the only sex toy to have this name, though. Whilst researching for Mistress Of The Air, I stumbled across a story about a toy designed to satisfy the sexual needs of Nazi army officers. This sex-doll was called Borghild. I’m afraid I couldn’t resist the temptation of giving Lady Sally’s automaton the same name!

The background to this is a scheme inspired by Heinrich Himmler in 1940 called the Borghild project. Apparently, there was huge concern about an epidemic of syphilis amongst the German troops. It seems the greatest danger to them was the widespread presence of whores in the brothels of Paris.

The project involved distributing inflatable sex dolls to the troops. These could be transported in back-packs and produced whenever relief was needed so the troops wouldn’t visit Paris prostitutes. Adolf Hitler allegedly approved the project. Naturally, the doll had appropriately Aryan features and blonde hair.

The sex-doll was supposedly distributed to some officers but the project was cancelled because the soldiers refused to carry the doll in fear of embarrassment if they were captured and found with one.

It’s a fantastic story, isn’t it? Unfortunately, it’s urban myth, fake news or lies (whatever the current usage is in these post-Trump days). There’s stuff on the internet that reports this story as fact but there is no evidence for it other than a couple of photographs of said sex-doll believed to have been produced long after the 1940s. A shame, I know, but it’s almost certainly a hoax.

Still, it’s a great story. Now the name Borghild lives on in the guise of Lady Sally’s brass sex toy! She collects the automaton from the von Siemen manufactory in Germany on the first stop of her travels.

Be warned. There will be wild escapades, kinky BDSM, dastardly devices, explosions and nice cups of tea.

Book Blurb

Mistress of the Air is a Comic, Steampunk, Erotic Adventure.

Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester owns a brass mine in Zanzibar, a Lapsang Souchong tea plantation in China, a rubber tree farm in Malaysia, trunk loads of corsetry, and the country’s largest collection of antique whips and floggers.

Larger than life, and itching to find new and inventive ways to punish her submissive gentlemen, the Edwardian dominatrix has a vision. Embracing the spirit of the new age of aviation, she embarks on a series of adventures on her own airship, The Corseted Domme, with her transvestite maid, Victoria, her airship pilot, Captain Wyndham, and her automaton sex toy, Borghild.

A select group of submissive gentlemen, consisting of a duke, bishop, lawyer and banker, is invited to join Lady Sally so she can try out her new dastardly devices and sex toys on them. She whips, spanks and punishes her way across the Empires of Europe, dropping off to visit her aristocratic relatives and friends for afternoon tea.

But Lady Sally’s journey is not uneventful. War is threatening to break out and the Ministry of Aviation want to commandeer her airship for the war effort. And when The Corseted Domme has a crash landing, Lady Sally realises there is a stowaway on board intent on sabotaging her airship.

There will be wild escapades, kinky BDSM, dastardly devices, explosions and nice cups of tea.

Buy links

Ebook

Amazon US (Kindle): http://amzn.to/2qsu64J

Amazon UK (Kindle): http://amzn.to/2pxDBhr

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mistress-of-the-air-s-nano/1126181430?ean=9781545250242

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/mistress-of-the-air

Print

Amazon US (print): https://www.amazon.com/Mistress-Air-S-Nano/dp/1545250243/

Amazon UK (print): https://www.amazon.co.uk/Mistress-Air-S-Nano/dp/1545250243/

Create space/eXcessica (print): https://www.createspace.com/7078177

Extract

Borghild’s movements were a tad mechanical, which was only to be expected. Indeed, she marched in a military style goose-step, which contributed strangely to her kinkiness.

Lady Sally asked Victoria to summon the captain to the playroom, on the grounds he would be fascinated by the technological advances manifested in her new automaton.

Her slaves gazed upon the pair in awe at the gleaming, scarlet rubber in matching outfits. Lady Sally’s elegant and shapely legs were on full show in the short dress alongside the shiny, brass ones of the automaton.

Lady Sally proceeded to introduce her, “This is Borghild. She has been especially designed for me by Ernst von Siemen, the renowned automation manufacturer. I made the diversion into the industrial wastelands of the Ruhr to pick her up from the manufactory. She will be my accomplice in punishment for the rest of my travels and has been designed specifically with my needs for sadistic domination in mind. I expect she will play a full part in assisting me. Remember, though, there will be no point pleading for mercy from her, as she’ll take no notice. This will mean more fun for me and double the pain for you!”

The springs and sockets behind Borghild’s eyes clicked and whirred, swivelling her sockets from side to side with a gaze of disconcerting perspicacity as her photographic cells took recognition of the images of the four men.

Captain Wyndham made an appearance before this announcement.

“Ah, there you are captain. I trust things are quiet in the control room.”

“For a change, madam, yes.”

“I hope my adventures are not too exacting for you, captain?”

“No, not at all Lady Sally; it was intended as a compliment not a complaint.”

“Excellent. There’s no point asking the opinion of this bunch of miscreants: bankers don’t know about anything useful, bishops have no appreciation for technological achievements, judges are hopeless, except for contesting an argument…”

“I say, that’s unfair,” interrupted the judge, “I believe I can make a strong case for arguing for the intellectual capacity of a judge. The evidence is very strong…”

Lady Sally gave him a withering stare.

“And as for dukes, well they are useless.”

“Fair comment mistress,” acknowledged the duke with a nod of his foppish lock of hair.

“But I know you, captain, will appreciate the technological marvel of Borghild.”

Captain Wyndham inspected the automaton with considered curiosity. He looked into her eyes to examine the photographic cells, he examined the construction of her joints, and studied the control panel that operated the automaton.

“Truly remarkable,” Lady Sally. “She’s a work of art. I’ve worked with Clarissa and she’s marvellous, but the quality of the brass moulding and engineering of the limbs are more sophisticated in this model. And her eyes… it’s as if she’s alive. Can she talk? Has Herr Siemen mastered that technology?”

“No, regrettably not captain, though that’s just as well. I couldn’t put up with anyone who contradicts me, not even an automaton.”

“No, indeed not, I can see that,” the captain concurred.

“You must stay and watch her in action. Right, let’s get to work. I doubt if Borghild is ready to master knots and buckles yet but, if she observes me closely, she will learn.”

Lady Sally set to work putting her submissive gentlemen into bondage. She mentally divided the protagonists into those who would receive pain, and those who would receive pleasure. The bishop and judge were chosen for the former, strapped face forward onto the wall boards with their arses exposed, the latter selected for interrupting her earlier. The banker and duke were tied on their backs, the former on the bench, the latter on the rack. It was important Borghild learn the essentials of delivering corporal punishment first.

Lady Sally selected two identical floggers, each with a piece of leather in the shape of the ace of spades at its end. She placed one in the hand of the automation. Her photographic eye cells registered how Lady Sally gripped it, and mimicked her by wrapping her brass knuckles around the black, leather handle.

Lady Sally set about flogging the bishop with the implement, leaving the judge to Borghild. The automaton’s mechanical eyes swivelled around to watch Lady Sally deliver a dozen or so strokes to the bishop’s backside, starting gently but blossoming into a crescendo of ferocity. Borghild recorded the behaviour in the photographic cells, goose-stepped over to the judge and began to flog him. Her actions were staccato as she could not mimic the graceful, fluid movements of Lady Sally; after all she was an automaton. Nonetheless, Lady Sally was most satisfied with the results. Being an automaton, her actions were hard and unforgiving. Borghild soon had the judge whooping in pain.

Lady Sally went through several implements, a whip, a leather strap, a wooden paddle and a cane so the automaton gained experience of handling different objects. Whether she could ever develop the instinctive affinity with them a skilful and experienced dominatrix like Lady Sally had was doubtful; sadistic punishment was an art form in which she excelled. Nevertheless, the results were evident in the glowing, red backside of the judge.

About the author

S. Nano is an author of erotic stories with dark and exotic content in fantasy, paranormal or historical settings, often drawing on the themes of female supremacy, BDSM and fetish but with a seam of quirky humour running through them as well.

His first full-length erotic novel, Adventures in Fetishland, a BDSM/fetish re-invention of Alice in Wonderland, was published by Xcite Books. His short stories and novellas have been published by Xcite Books, House of Erotica, Forbidden Fiction, Coming Together and Greenwoman Publishing.

His second novel, Mistress Of The Air was published by eXcessica on 21^st April 2017.

Web site: www.slavenano.co.uk/writing

Blog: www.slavenano.co.uk/blog

Facebook (Nano Vaslen): http://www.facebook.com/nano.vaslen

Mistress Of The Air Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/Mistress-Of-The-Air-1671491076492099/

Pinterest: http://uk.pinterest.com/nanovaslen/

Amazon UK author profile: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B005EBU1QI

Amazon US author profile: https://www.amazon.com/Slave-Nano/e/B005EBU1QI/

Goodreads author profile: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/6828376-slave-nano

*****

GIVEAWAY!

Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here: http://writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/s-nano/

And take part in the prize giveaway at to win a PDF copy of Adventures in Fetishland:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/8b9ec5be180/

Blog tour organized by Writer Marketing Services

For Your Touch Alone – Guest Post By Constance Munday

Constance Munday is my guest at the Naughty Corner today, revealing the secrets of her new BDSM erotic romance novel, For Your Touch Alone. Please welcome her.

I’m delighted to be guesting here with news of my latest project, so many thanks to Elizabeth for having me.

For Your Touch Alone (Book 1 – The Belonging Series), is the result of my lifelong fascination with BDSM. It’s the culmination of my plans for a trilogy about an ordinary woman’s journey into the dark side. I also wanted to write a novel with a significant amount of twists and turns, so I’m hoping the background theme will be interesting to readers. I’m so delighted to see the birth of the first book in the series. It was quite a wait for my patient readers, and I’m delighted to be back in the saddle.

I love Etienne and Vera. I purposely gave Vera a non-glamorous name as I want her to be the kind of girl we all might meet in the street. She’s rather principled and that makes her journey into the bondage world of Etienne Fauve all the harder. Etienne may come across as slightly dislikeable initially, but as readers come to know him, I think they’ll get him. His personality is simply the sum total of a troubled past.

As Vera learns to unveil the strengths she never knew she had, she commits to a journey that is much more than a simple relationship. It is one of belonging, body, mind and soul to her lover.

For Your Touch Alone is available at Amazon, through Xcite Books and on various platforms.

I love chatting and connecting with you all, so please find me on Facebook at:

www.facebook.com/constance.munday

Buy Links:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Your-Touch-Alone-Belonging-Book-ebook/dp/B01N212NJL/

https://www.amazon.com/Your-Touch-Alone-Belonging-Book-ebook/dp/B01N212NJL/

Blurb:

Vera Laike makes a vow of submission and belonging to Etienne Fauve, the mysterious and enigmatic Frenchman she meets when her marriage hits the rocks. Vera seeks to explore her inner self and Etienne is a master of control. Within her naivety he sees salvation. Within his control she sees liberation. They set out on a rollercoaster ride of temptation, seduction and sin without realising they are on a collision course. Neither of them counts on falling in love. They will be together; they have to be together. But are they both strong enough to surmount what lies ahead?

Excerpt:

‘This is a milestone. Today you’ll see and taste your other life again and you’ll flirt with possibilities. When you come back to me this evening, you’ll come to me completely, and your old life vanishes. This is soon, so soon for me to be asking this of you.’ He smoothed her hair. ‘You’ll need to be ingenious to separate the layers of your life, but you’ll have to do it if you’re to belong to me fully.’

Through the window, she could see the by now familiar car.

‘So this is something like going out on parole, or a test?’

‘A bit, yes. It’s a test for both of us. I must trust you in order to prove something to myself. You’re not a slave in the true sense of the word. The slavery you choose will be because you crave Etienne Fauve and what he has to give you.’

His lips were centimetres from hers. He brushed them with his own, teasing her. The promise of those lips sealed Vera’s fate.

‘Surely, people don’t play games like this?’

‘You’d be surprised how many do.’

‘But I…’

‘But you what?’ He laughed. ‘I get it. Although you’ve played along fabulously well for the last few days, in the back of your mind you’ve been thinking this was a ridiculous charade you could walk away from.’

‘I suppose so. I don’t know. Well, I can walk out of it, can’t I?’

‘Despite what I said before, that’s exceptionally naïve of you.’ He turned her around and whispered in her ear as he began to walk her forward. ‘There are more efficient prisons than those with four walls. There are prisons of the mind and heart. I think you want this prison. I think you are made for sin.’

‘I am made for sin.’

They were now at the front door. He pulled the velvet blindfold out of his pocket and she stood obediently as he settled it over her eyes and rubbed his thumb across her lips in his familiar gesture.

‘You ought to watch what you’re saying, Vera. You might not be aware of it, but you can be so provocative.’ He planted a kiss beneath her ear, leaning further forward to pinch her nipple. Sublime delight surged through her from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair. She realised she was an innocent standing on the railways tracks, and an oncoming train was about to run her down.

He continued by drawing spirals on her skin as he opened the door and led her down to the car, settling her in the backseat before climbing in beside her.

Vera felt more nervous than she had the day Etienne had picked her up and brought her to the house. ‘I’m not what you think, Etienne Fauve.’ She sat in a very prim and proper fashion with her knees locked together.

‘I understand what you are.’

‘You think you do, but you hardly know about me or my past. We’ve only touched on it. You don’t know what I’ve fought to control by covering it with this veneer of ordinariness.’

‘Yes, I do. Why do you think you’re still sitting here and I’m taking this unprecedented step? You’re Vera Laike. The ordinary girl with the black tarnish, and I’m Etienne Fauve, the man with the black heart.’

 

High Tech and Low Tech Meet in the Middle – Guest Post By K D Grace

When my husband and I walked the Wainwright Coast to Coast Path across England, we took tons of photos, though there were a few days when the weather was the worst that the photos were sparse. On those days we were too tired and too wet to bother. Earlier that same year, we heard a talk from a man who climbed Everest for charity and somehow, even at the top, he had the presence of mind to record his epic moment on his device.

While I blogged that wonderful walk, taking photos as we went and then writing like a crazy woman in our B&B at night to get the posts out, I’d often wished I’d had the skill and the tech to do it all on my phone and in-situ as we moved across the landscape.

Having said that, one of the best parts of the walk was that it was mostly low tech – good walking gear and navigation skills and putting one foot in front of the other. That meant a feeling of accomplishment at the end of each day and it meant that we didn’t miss the finer moments because our noses were buried in our iPhones.

Will and Doc’s story is one of adventures with high tech while being very creative with low tech at the same time. That combo made for fun and sexy writing.

Toys For Boys Excerpt – Flesh To Flesh:

“We’re not going to make Ennerdale tonight,” Doc yelled into the wind.

Will’s answer was incoherent, an incoherence that wasn’t entirely because the wind was interfering with Doc’s hearing. They’d already got lost once and had fought their way back to the trail. Doc was fucking freezing, but he had spent enough time outdoors in bad weather to push his body way further than most people could. No matter how fit Will was, Doc recognised the signs of hypothermia when he saw them. They had to get out of the weather and get warm.

They lost the trail twice more before Doc made the executive decision to set up a tent in the first spot halfway flat. To his surprise it had been the damn urBrain that had saved the day. Will had downloaded detailed, interactive OS maps, but in his condition, Doc doubted if he could read his own name in bold letters, let alone the contours of a map. He’d pried the device, safe from the weather in its own little waterproof sheath, from Will’s icy hands and, with the light from the screen, he was able to find a wooded area relatively flat and as shielded from the weather as they were likely to get. The rain turned to hail and the Arctic wind made it feel like bird shot against all bits of exposed skin as Doc struggled to set up the tent. He’d shoved another energy bar at Will, and when he’d only stood there looking at it, Doc had opened it and half crammed it down his throat before he went back to work on shelter, desperate to get Will out of the weather.

Once the tent was secure, he chucked the bags inside, then grabbed Will by the collar and dragged him into the tight little space.

The energy bar must have helped. Will seemed coherent enough. “I can’t feel my hands,” he said, battling to get his sleeping bag out of its waterproof sack.

“Give me that,” Doc said through chattering teeth. “Let me do it. My hands aren’t all delicate and dainty like yours.”

“Would you look at that?” Will said as Doc grabbed the bag. “Amazingly, my middle finger works just fine.” He flipped him off.

“So does your smart mouth.” Without thinking, Doc zipped the two bags together.

“What are you doing?” Will was suddenly serious.

“You’re hypothermic. Get your wet clothes off and get into the bag.”

“Oh. Right.” But Will could no more manage the buttons and zippers on his clothing than he could his sleeping bag.

This time when Doc shoved his hands away and pushed the waterproof jacket off his shoulders, Will only watched, eyes focussed on the process as though it were something totally new to him. Doc cursed the fiddly buttons on the man’s shirt, his own hands none too agile from the cold and wet and the fact that he was undressing Will fucking Charles, about whom he’d been having less than pristine thoughts since his first view of the man’s arse. Will fucking Charles with whom he was about to cuddle down into a sleeping bag butt naked, never mind that it was with good reason.

Will sucked in a harsh breath. “Your damned hands are like ice cubes, Woodsy.”

“Oh shut it, William, or I’ll kick your arse outside and make you sleep in the rain.”

“Fucking like to see you try.” Will’s teeth were chattering hard, and his whole body trembling from the cold as Doc worried the shorts down over his commando bum and found himself face to cock, which made the blighter burst into hysterical laughter. “Have we ulterior motives, Mr Jones? Where the hell’s urBrain? I have to get this on camera.”

“Want a selfie of your cock, do you, you shivering bastard?” Doc turned his attention to the walking boots, which had stopped all progress of getting the man naked. Focussing on something other than the naked, very vulnerable body of Will fucking Charles helped clear his mind. He was too cold, too tired to get hard over what was essentially a matter of life and death, he told himself. Surely!

Once the boots were dispensed with, he shoved the man into the sleeping bag and went about the awkward business of stripping himself.

“Where the hell is the urBrain when I need it?” Will chuckled between chattering teeth.

“You point that thing at me, and I’ll shove it up your arse.” Doc’s own teeth sounded like a couple of spastic tap dancers had been turned loose in his mouth.

“Now that’s a function I didn’t find in the instruction manual,” Will replied.

What started out as ribald comments on the shrivelling effect of the cold on male tender bits dwindled to nothing more than the sound of convulsive shivering. By the time Doc had shed the last of his clothes and shoved his way down next to Will, he was seriously worried. It took all his strength, which wasn’t a helluva lot at that moment, to pull the bloke into his arms and hold him close enough to share body heat, what little there was of it. The worry subsided a bit when Will threw his arms around his neck and gave a harsh chuckle against his throat. “This was seriously worth getting hypothermic for. Pity I’m too fucking tired to appreciate it.”

Though Doc agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment, his focus was on getting Will warm. Then he’d get out the backpacking stove and fix them something hot. That was the last thing he remembered, that and the feel of Will’s body shivering against him, in the tent redolent with the male scent of core heat and wet gear, all overlaid by the icy metal smell of the fells in a storm.

Toys for Boys Blurb:

Alpha nerd Will Charles teams up with Caridoc ‘Doc’ Jones in a coast to coast walk across England reviewing outdoor gift suggestions for the Christmas edition of Toys for Boys—an online magazine dedicated to the latest gadgets to tickle a man’s fancy. Will is recording their adventures with the latest smart phone technology. Doc is reviewing the latest outdoor gear. The two quickly discover the great outdoors provides even better toys for boys, toys best shared al fresco, toys that, in spite of Will’s great camera work, will never be reviewed in Toys for Boys.

Note: Toys for Boys has been previously published as part of the Brit Boys: With Toys boxed set.

 Buy Toys for Boys Here:

 Universal Amazon link: http://mybook.to/toysforboys

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2jPjrN2

iBooks: http://apple.co/2jpYvxK

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2kbYbQa

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2kmFbRg

About K D Grace/Grace Marshall

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She loves mythology. She enjoys spending time in the gym – right now she’s having a mad affair with a pair of kettle bells. She loves to read, watch birds and do anything that gets her outdoors.

KD has erotica published with Totally Bound, SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, Fulfilling the Contract, To Rome with Lust, and The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Witches trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, The Exhibition, Interviewing Wade are all available.

Find K D Here:

Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/

http://www.thebritbabes.co.uk

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/kdgraceauthor/

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The Responsibility Of Choice – Guest Post By Christine Blackthorn

My guest today is Christine Blackthorn, who has not only written an unusual and engrossing paranormal novel, but has some very interesting thoughts on BDSM. Welcome to the Naughty Corner, Christine.

This post is the result of reading too much BDSM erotica and blog posts. Oh, and actually a real life conversation. It is also not a new sentiment – I have said so before. The summary of my point is easy – and really hard: you always have the responsibility of choice. No one can take that from you. No one is allowed to take that from you. You choose to submit and you choose to submit to whomever it is who holds the reigns.

You cannot get around the responsibility to choose – or the right to choose.

Every time you get tied up, every time you get flogged, every time you are punished, every time you serve — you make that choice. It’s a silent choice, you made that choice when you trusted the man or woman you gave your submission to. But it is still a choice. It gives you rights and duties.

You have the right that the other person acts with your best interest in mind — and the duty to do the same. The other is not a mind reader. The other is not perfect. He/She has accepted the responsibility when you play, or in the times you serve Him/Her, but, at the same time, you have the responsibility to talk to Him/Her.

If it is something old or new, somewhere in this there has to be the time, and the courage, to discuss what you do — even do some research together. There will come moments when you are asked to do something you are uncomfortable with, frightens you. There will be moments when you do it anyway because He/She asks you to. That is great — but it is still your choice. And there might be moments in which you are asked to do something, to endure something, you definitely cannot. It is your responsibility to tell the other what you feel and think. That is your duty.

If they then ignore you and harm you, they have not fulfilled their own responsibility. They chose to betray you — and that is never ok.

The choice is always with both of you, just as abuse can go both ways. If as a submissive you do not talk, are not honest, do not take responsibility for your choice, you harm the person who accepted your trust. It is not fair, it is not ok — and no fantasy can get you over that.

You are an adult. You can choose to do what you want, you can choose to submit, you can choose to be hurt and loving it, you can choose to give up control over every decision of your life — safe one decision. You cannot choose not to choose. And you cannot choose not to talk about it with the person you chose to trust for however long you decided to play — a few hours or a lifetime.

A Variety of Chains excerpt

Slowly, he lowered more and more of his weight to rest on her until she could feel his hard and still clothed limbs against her nakedness. His arousal was unmistakable as it rested in the embrace of her body, only separated from her skin by the fabric of his trousers. His hand stroked down, over her hip to her knee, before he hooked a hand underneath it and brought it up to his waist, opening her further to him.

She wanted to blame the hour, so close to the fourteenth, for the wetness soaking his trousers, but knew that would not be entirely honest. Her body was wet with arousal and spasms of pleasure were tightening her womb. He started to roll his hips, stroking the fabric over a part of her that she had not realised could become so sensitive. With each stroke of his body against hers, something tensed in her a little more. His lips started to play with hers again, teasingly stroking over them and then nipping her with lightning speed. She needed something she did not know she needed, and with every second it seemed to come closer. The sound ripped from her throat was between a moan and a sob – and it stopped him in his tracks.

His brow came to rest against hers on a moan. “There is nothing I want more than to continue this so that when I ask you again if you have ever had an orgasm, you are in no doubt at all, but unfortunately now is not the time. Now is too close to midnight, and it would be careless of me to lose control.”

Blurb

Kathryn McClusky is an ErGer – a rare and highly prized individual in the supernatural world.

She has spent her life running and hiding, but circumstances have changed and the only way to protect her family is to hand herself over to the Vampire Lord of London to face slavery or death.

Lucian Neben runs his London court with a stern but fair hand, but political pressures are building from both the human and fey worlds, and taking possession of an ErGer would cement his position of power.

Kathryn is vulnerable and broken almost beyond repair, but she holds in her hands the one treasure Lucian desperately wants – the possibility of home and family.

Can he teach her to open herself up; to choose to life, and him, before reality forces him to take her freedom?

Sales links

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2aq8Kc8

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2avj1Fd

Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/BandNVoC

Google Play: http://bit.ly/GPlayVoC

Kobo: http://bit.ly/KoboVoC

Apple: http://bit.ly/AppleVoC

Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/GoodreadsVoC

Author Bio

In “real” life, I am an academic with degrees in Political Science, Economics, Philosophy and Law and an insatiable desire to confound, baffle and disconcert my students. Someone once suggested to me the reason for my stories lay in the desire to offset the tedium and rationality of academic life. He wasn’t an academic or he would have known better. It is best to use research against tedium, students to offset the rationality and an unlimited supply of stressballs for the faculty meetings. The stories? Well, they are just for me – like a mental manicure.

I also write a blog on Feminism and Erotica – come talk to me:

Blog: http://christineblackthorn.eu/blog

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cnblackthorn

Twitter: https://twitter.com/CBlackthorn

*****

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Inspiration – Guest Post By Kate Julia White

My guest today is Kate Julia White, who’s written a frank, funny and very filthy memoir about her adventures on London’s swinging and scenes, Tough Love. Welcome to the Naughty Corner, Kate. 

Thank you to Liz Coldwell for inviting me to her blog, I’m very excited to be here… Liz also very skilfully edited my forthcoming book “Tough Love” (out on 15 June through Accent Press/Xcite Books), for which I am eternally grateful. In fact, she was the one who sent me a message with the magic words that my manuscript had been accepted for publication.

I get the question sometimes where I find the inspiration – and the truth is I’m rubbish at making things up. I have a friend who writes YA novels very successfully. She builds marvellous worlds and engaging characters with unexpected powers and endearing soft spots in a way I truly admire. I just can’t make things up which are consistent and credible. So, in a way I don’t have a choice: my inspiration comes from everyone around me in real life.

My friends and lovers don’t know they’re stars (or villains) in my writing, but it’s a fail-safe way to get a fresh stream of rich, nourishing ideas, vignettes and scenes. The “life is stranger than fiction” cliché really is true, and in Tough Love, everything actually really did happen. That also means I feel surprised, gullible, excited and horny when I reread my own writing, just like when everything took place. I laughed a lot when many of the events unfolded; I had a lot of exceptional sex and met some wonderful people. God forbid they should recognise themselves.

Look around and try to see beneath the surface. The best source of inspiration is you, your friends, their partners and exes, your neighbours and your colleagues. Within the immediate circle of people you meet daily, there will be all sorts of quirky and loveable individuals juggling affairs with their coworkers, making plans for swingers’ cruises and hiding the welts from the cane last night. You rarely have the privilege to get close enough to share their most eye-widening moments.

I’ve been lucky; I’ve typed up the stories I have experienced and been inspired to seek new adventures. I’ve written about it, as all of them deserve to be told – some to share the desire, ecstasy and joy, and some to serve as a warning, for you to giggle at if you like. But they are all true stories about life, love, and lust in London today.

Inspiration? Just think about the last time you were wildly turned on. Or ask your friend to tell the full story about how she lost her virginity. Or talk about how it really felt when you noticed someone watching you intently from across the train carriage with a wicked smile. Or remember the time you slipped the beautifully embroidered birthday lingerie on and looked in the mirror. Life really is full of wonder and laughter; we just forget sometimes. And sexy stories are the best way to remember. Kiss me, and you’ll see. Maybe I just make more of the opportunities come true than many other people.

This is a short excerpt from Tough Love, out on 15 June from Xcite Books:

One of the best parties that summer was David’s leaving do – a fully clothed, vanilla event at a local pub followed by a drinking marathon to finish off the contents of his bar at home. It was a celebration of what he had brought to London, with true love and affection between friends and neighbours mixed with the unavoidable sense that he would be missed. More by some of us than others. The party has about half kinky swinger friends and half workmates and neighbours who knew him as a fun guy but had little clue of how close the rest of us were. The wife of the family in David’s street looked straight at me for several seconds, completely unable to place me, before she realised who I was.

I was in a group of fairly glamorous-looking giggling, whispering friends, all made up and in a nice tight silk dress. I was far away from the frumpy mother of her kids’ classmate who was always late picking up after play dates. She was stunned to see me there, and my explanation of how we knew David through mutual friends and being invited to parties may not have added up, or maybe she knew more than she cared to admit to herself or her husband about the goings-on next door. She looked glad to see us but a bit confused – if we knew his next-door neighbour so well, why hadn’t we mentioned it when speaking about their street at dinner parties and at the school gates?

Then suddenly the gorgeous black girl who was a regular guest and supplier of snow decided she had to leave early, snuggled up to my husband, and firmly kissed him on the lips, promising we’d see her soon again. I stood next to them, happy that my husband was being kissed by a younger, better-looking woman with a deep cleavage, and also got a hug before she trooped out the door. The neighbour’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, I will never forget the looks of disbelief she gave us. A moment to savour; what could she possibly say or do even if she had her suspicions?

Blurb:

Tough Love is an erotic memoir of a married woman, a mother and business executive, who together with her husband decides to have an open marriage after many years together. The resulting adventures are both expected: exciting sex, strange characters and suspicious neighbours, and unexpected: male escorts sharing their wares for free, wedding invitations where she’s slept with both bride and groom and some remarkable friendships. The story is a declaration of love to London and its people, and all of it is true – it really happened.

Bio:

Kate lives in London with her husband and children. By day she is a successful business executive, by night an active participant in the exciting sexual adventures London has to offer. Oh, and she writes about it on the train to work or in bed with one of her lovers.

Buy link:

Amazon UK/Amazon US

You can find Kate Julia White at Facebook, Goodreads and on her blog.

 

You Never Forget Your First Time – Guest Post By Lisabet Sarai

When the lovely Lisabet Sarai announced she was bringing out a new and expanded version of her classic BDSM novel set in Thailand, Raw Silk, I was intrigued. It’s a while since I reviewed the original version for Forum, but I hadn’t realised quite how long until – oh, but I’ll let Lisabet explain for herself…

I published my first erotic novel in 1999. I’ve had many releases since then, but Raw Silk holds a special place in my heart. I was so innocent when I penned this story. I’d never read any romance, and relatively little erotica. I knew nothing at all about the publishing world. All I had were my own fantasies and memories, which I burned to share. Although the book was not in any sense autobiographical, it drew heavily on my personal experience. It has always been one of my most popular works, partly, I think, because readers sense the emotional authenticity of the tale. Kate’s sexual journey mirrors my own, not in detail, but in spirit.

Now Totally Bound has given me the chance to revisit that book, revising and expanding it for re-release. It has been a thrill to follow Kate once more through the twists and turns of her adventures in Bangkok. Meanwhile, I’m delighted to have the chance to apply the accumulated knowledge from sixteen years of writing to polish the prose, making the tale shine even more brightly.

Excerpt: Gregory turned to Noi. “Help her get ready. I promised her that no one would know who she was.”

“Kate, put yourself in Noi’s hands. She’s an expert.” He bent down to whisper in her ear. “Remember, I will be watching.” She felt a hard pinch on her bottom. “Break a leg,” he said in a jocular tone, then was gone.

Noi took Kate by the hand. “Sit here,” she ordered, “and take off your shirt.” Kate stripped off the T-shirt. She was bare-breasted beneath, but the women around her did not give her a second glance. She sat at the dressing table that Noi indicated, looking at herself in the mirror.

She was flushed. Her green eyes seemed darker than usual, and sparkled with suppressed excitement. The few freckles on her pert nose seemed especially prominent. She looked pretty, alert, and very Irish.

Meanwhile, her nipples were red and rigid, perched high on her full breasts. Touch me, they almost screamed. Pinch me, suck me.

As if reading her thoughts, Noi caught her left nipple between a thumb and forefinger, and gave a little twist. Kate gasped. “You will be very popular,” observed the mamasan dryly. Kate couldn’t help blushing.

Noi began to apply makeup. Kate watched, fascinated, as her ruddy skin became pale, her freckles disappeared, her eyebrows darkened and arched, her eyes became shallow and almond-shaped. In a short time, she was looking at an Asian beauty, perhaps half-Thai, half-American, with moist, full lips and curly red hair.

“My hair…” she protested. Noi reached behind her and produced a wig of straight, black locks. She gathered Kate’s own ringlets into a tight ponytail then fitted the wig.

The transformation was complete. Black bangs cut across her forehead. Black tresses decorated her shoulders. She looked nineteen instead of twenty-eight. And, most assuredly, Thai.

The other girls gathered around. “Oh, madam, you look so beautiful.” Kate couldn’t help but smile, surrounded as she was by gorgeous female faces and forms.

“Here is your costume,” said Noi. “Gregory selected it especially for you.”

Kate grew a little paler. Was she really expected to wear this, in public? She looked at Noi in silent entreaty, but the mamasan just grinned. “Get dressed,” she said. “The dancing will start in just a few minutes.”

A corset of black vinyl, laced up the front, which cinched her waist and left her breasts bare. The briefest of G-strings, a tiny vinyl triangle that barely hid her bush plus a thong that settled deep in the crevice between her buttocks. Thigh-high vinyl boots with four-inch heels. And, finally, the leather collar she had last worn while Gregory had taken her from behind.

Fully attired, she checked herself in the mirror once more. A stranger stared back, a sultry Asian temptress. The body was more voluptuous than was typical for a Thai, full breasts and thighs that belied the woman’s youthful face. Her red-painted lips were half-open, luscious and inviting. Her skin shone already with a light sheen of sweat. Kate raised her arms above her head and swiveled her hips, as she had seen the other dancers do. The figure in the mirror moved gracefully, languidly, every motion beckoning the viewer to watch, touch, taste, possess her.

“Here is your number.” Noi handed her a plastic chip with a pin on the back. Kate had noticed all the girls wearing them. Apparently they served as a simple accounting mechanism, for tallying the tips the girls received whenever a customer bought them a drink. She smiled wryly, noting that Gregory had assigned her the number sixty-nine.

Blurb: When software engineer Kate O’Neill leaves her lover David to take a job in Thailand, she becomes sexually involved with two very different men—a handsome and debauched member of the Thai aristocracy, and the charismatic proprietor of a sex bar.

Each touches her in a different way, each teaches her different things about her body and her heart.

Then David comes to Bangkok, and Kate realizes that, finally, she must choose one of the three men who all desire her.

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of M/M and F/F sex, sex with multiple partners, scenes of mixed ménage, scenes of dubious consent and forced cunnilingus, voyeurism, exhibitionism, sex in public places, pegging as well as the use of inanimate objects during sex scenes.

Review Quotes: “This is by far one of the best erotic novels that I have read and it fully deserves every one of the five ribbons I am giving it! But it does make me wonder what the characters could do with them.” ~ Maree Schuler, Romance Junkies (Five Ribbons).

“[Kate’s] character grows and she comes to realize her inner needs along with her deep sexual desires. Lisabet Sarai has a flair for sexy, sensuous romance with an edgy feel. I cannot wait to read more by this talented author.” ~ Dawnie, Fallen Angels Reviews (Five Angels).

“The Bangkok setting is fascinating and adds to the overall feeling of opulent sensuality. Lisabet Sarai deftly shows the country without ever letting the descriptions take over the story. Good BDSM novels are voyages of self-discovery, and Raw Silk is a journey you’ll enjoy taking.” ~ Kathleen Bradean, Erotica Revealed

“…this is one SIZZLING read (the ending was incredible) and should not be put on the back burner of your ‘to read list.” ~ Alyssa, Amazon review (Five stars)

Buy Links (Ebook and Print)

Amazon US/Amazon UK/Barnes & Noble/Totally Bound/All Romance/

Find the book on Goodreads

Until March 8th, Raw Silk is available for only 99c!