Monthly Archives: September 2012

Welcome Guest blogger Andra Ashe and win some great books and chocolate!



When did you start writing smut?

I was pondering this question the other day, trying to pin down when my journey into erotica began.  My first memory of reading something salacious is The Passionflower Hotel by Rosalind Erskine.  This was published in 1962 so I’m thinking I probably read it as a mid-teen and the die was cast.

I can’t recall when I first put smutty pen to paper.  That I can’t remember,  and the fact that it was literally pen to paper, shows how long ago it must be, but I’ve always had a fascination with sex and writing so it was natural that I’d put the two together.  When I started writing romance the bedroom door was only starting to open but as it crept further and further open I happily went inside and not only watched, but called the shots.  This smutty writer finally had a legitimate genre – erotic romance.

After a couple of decades of writing I’ve finally had my first publication success with two short stories accepted by Pink Petal Books for the Boys of Summer and Beyond Bounds anthologies.  Here’s the sexy cover for Beyond Bounds.  It’s currently available at Pink Petal Books.

I’m currently working on a full length naughty historical set in the Georgian era tentatively called ‘Pleasure’s Mistress’.

I live in Melbourne, Australia where we’ve just gone into Spring so the weather swings between sunny with blue skies to rain with hail and grey skies.  There’s a saying that ‘if you don’t like the weather in Melbourne, wait five minutes’ and it’s certainly true at this time of year.  My local writers group are the fabulous ladies of the Melbourne Romance Writers Guild, I’m also a member of Romance Writers of Australia and judge some of their competitions.

I’d love to know how, when or what inspired  you to start writing smut  and one lucky commenter will receive a copy of Sylvia Day’s ‘Bared to You,’ Aussie author Jess Dee’s hot ménage ‘Three of a Kind’ and some chocolate coated Australian macadamia nuts – because every romance writer needs chocolate!

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Here is a very short teaser from ‘Miss Blaine’s Misconduct’:

‘Very good, Miss Blaine,’ he said, his voice moving closer.  ‘Perhaps you’re beginning to learn the basics of doing what’s expected of you.’  His voice was firm but not threatening.

Lily nodded.  She didn’t know whether it was it the confines of the mask, or some innate subservience, but her pulse quickened with the anticipation of not knowing what Nick would say or do next.

‘Give me your hands, Miss Blaine.’

Lily held out her hands and the warmth of Nicks fingers encircled her wrists as he drew her forward to stand up. His grip on her wrists tightened and Lily drew in a breath before he flattened her hands against his chest.  His now naked chest.  Rock hard under her fingers with the soft rasp of hair.  Nipples hard under her palms.

She flexed her fingers, wanting to feel more but her hands were pulled away. ‘Misbehaving doesn’t go unpunished.’  He let go of her hands.  ‘Pull your skirt up, Miss Blaine.’

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New Release! Hot Cop Romance! HANDS-ON TRAINING – the Fifth Book in The Badge Bunnies Series!

I’m so excited to announce that HANDS-ON TRAINING, the fifth book in my Badge Bunnies Series is now available!

Happy Reading!

This hot cop is only too happy to give her private lessons!

Texas State Trooper Blake Jordan can’t afford to get distracted on the job, but he can’t take his eyes off the beautiful woman in his concealed carry handgun class. With soft feminine curves and eyes he just about gets lost in, Trista Durant is enough to make him forget his own name.

Trista’s been drooling over Blake since the moment he walked in the classroom. His broad shoulders, big biceps and sexy voice are enough to almost melt off her panties.

When the hot cop acts completely professional despite the sultry smiles she sends his way, she realizes she’s going to have to give up on getting him in her bed, or do something drastic to make it happen —like failing the hands-on portion of the class so she can get some time alone with him. Blake is only too happy to give Trista private lessons, and soon shows her what real hands-on training is all about.

Who knew shooting a gun could be so much fun? Give a whole new meaning to the term keep your weapon pointed in a safe direction at all times.


“You seemed comfortable handling the weapon when it was unloaded. It wasn’t until you got on the line with a loaded weapon that you started having a problem, so I think we should start there.”

Trista groaned inwardly. The possibility of romance was dropping by the second here. Blake seriously thought she wanted a firearms lesson.

She picked up her pistol. “Should I just start shooting at the target?”

“Let’s work on your stance first and get you comfortable with the weapon. Then we’ll do some shooting.”

Trista turned to face the target—feet together, pistol held in both hands with arms fully extended at shoulder height. “Like this?”

“Not quite.” Blake lifted his hand, then stopped. “Do you mind if I touch you? It’s easier to show you than to tell you.”

Now you’re talking.

“Go ahead.” She had to fight to keep the grin off her face. “If you think it will help.”

Her pulse quickened as Blake went around to stand in back of her. Without a word, he placed his boot in between her feet, gently nudging them apart. When she automatically spread her legs, he slipped one of his between her thighs to widen her stance. When she’d said she wanted Blake between her legs, this wasn’t what she’d had in mind. Not that she was complaining. She’d take him any way she could get him.

He wrapped his arms around her and clasped her hands in his. He was so big and strong she couldn’t help but feel tiny in his embrace, and it was all she could do not to moan as the hard planes of his chest pressed against her back. She knew he was only demonstrating the proper stance to help her shoot better, but at the moment, all she really cared about was how the contours of his body fit hers.

“See how much more stable you are in this position?” Blake’s voice was right next to her ear. “Wider is always better.”

She couldn’t agree more. “I see that now.”

Unable to help herself, she pushed her ass back until she brushed against something firm and unyielding. She was pretty sure it wasn’t his belt buckle.

“Relax your arms some,” he instructed. “Your shoulders are really tense.”

She obeyed, wiggling back a little more as she let her arms relax. This time, her ass definitely met with resistance. If that was his cock she was rubbing up against and not a weapon of another sort, then Blake wasn’t quite as professional as he wanted her to think. Or at least a certain part of his anatomy wasn’t.

“I know you won’t be able to think about breathing in a crisis situation. But right now, let’s focus on good technique.” His voice was smooth as honey in her ear. “Take a deep breath and hold it.”

She inhaled, letting the air fill her lungs—and expand her breasts quite nicely. From where he stood looking over her shoulder, Blake would have had to be oblivious to miss the view down her blouse as she put on her best heaving-bosom routine.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

He tightened his arms around her, pulling her back against him. Oh, yeah. That was definitely his cock back there. He was getting harder by the second.

“Now, just squeeze your finger gently on the trigger,” he commanded. “It should surprise you when it goes off.”

She slowly pulled the trigger. The hammer fell with a distinct click.

“That was perfect. You didn’t flinch at all,” he said. “Let’s try it now with the clip loaded.”

Trista almost groaned in disappointment when he moved away from her to load the magazine of her 9mm. She leaned her hip against the counter and watched as he worked. Damn, he had some nice hands. She could just imagine what they’d feel like roaming over her naked body. When he was done, he held out a set of hearing protection— the kind that cut out almost all the sound.

She frowned as she took the earmuffs. “I won’t be able to hear your instructions with these on. Shouldn’t we use the foamy things.”

His mouth quirked. “The foam earplugs, you mean? No. The earmuffs muffle the sound better. Don’t worry. I’ll be right behind you, guiding you by touch. All you have to do is focus on the target.”

Like she was going to be able to focus on anything with him touching her. That silly paper target positioned halfway down the shooting range was going to be the last thing on her mind.

After he was once again standing behind her, Blake leaned close to her ear for one last set of instructions before she put the muffs in place. “You have a full magazine, but I want you to take your time and try to make every shot perfect.”

She picked up her Lady Smith 9mm and sighted in on the target. Having all that rock-hard muscle pressed up against her was even more distracting than it’d been before, and her hands began to shake. Blake immediately wrapped his arms around her, his hands supporting her wrists—which only made her tremble more. The way the inside of his arms pressed against the sides of her breasts was doing all sorts of delicious things to her body.

Trista relaxed back, subtly rubbing her ass against his erection. Blake didn’t pull away. If anything, he tugged her a little closer. He was trying to seduce her.

Hot damn.

She forced herself to focus enough to actually aim in the general direction of the target and squeezed out a shot. She didn’t give a damn where the bullet hit, but she did use the recoil as an excuse to bump her ass back into Blake’s hard-on. She took a breath and held it, then pulled the trigger again. When she leaned back against him this time, she gently rotated her ass in blatant invitation. Blake must have approved because he slid his hands down her bare arms until his fingertips brushed the sides of her breasts.

The contact was teasing, questioning, as if he wanted to make sure this was what she wanted.

Man, this was so what she wanted.

Keeping her pistol pointed in a safe direction, she turned her head until their eyes met. The heat in his made her pulse skyrocket. She wanted to say something flirty and suggestive, but she’d have to shout to be heard over the ear protection they wore, and that wouldn’t be very sexy at all. So instead, gaze still locked with his, she slowly and deliberately grazed his scuff-roughened jaw line with her lips. That must have been good enough for Blake. When she turned back to send another 9mm downrange, he slid his hands under her breasts to cup them through her shirt. Needless to say, that round went wide of the target. Hell, she wasn’t sure she even hit the wall behind it. She didn’t care. She was just happy he’d finally gotten the message she’d been sending his way.

She took a deep breath, letting her breasts fill Blake’s big hands. She thought she might have moaned, but she couldn’t tell over her earmuffs. She doubted her shooting instructor had, either. That was okay. She’d make sure he knew exactly how much she enjoyed what he was doing later.

Behind her, Blake bent to nuzzle her neck. His mouth was warm on her skin, and she tipped her head to the side to give him plenty of room. Steadying the weapon, she squeezed off a lazy shot at the target and hit it dead center.

Hmm, nothing like getting her breasts fondled to improve her focus.

She loved a man who knew how to use his mouth, and Blake certainly fell into that category. His lips on her neck were doing crazy things to her body, and she shivered as goose bumps chased over her skin. And when he traced his tongue along the pulse line of her jugular all the way from her collar bone up to her ear? Well, she just about melted. She was on the verge of dropping her Smith and Wesson when a sharp nip of teeth brought her back to reality. She tried to get herself under control, but she couldn’t.

She was already drunk from the first little touch.

She let her head fall back, silently begging him for more. And more was exactly what he gave her. Oh God, could a woman have a neckgasm? If his mouth felt that good there, what was it going to feel like on her nipples? Or her pussy? She trembled at the thought.

She was so caught up in what Blake was doing above the collar of her shirt she almost didn’t realize he’d started unbuttoning it until she felt cool air on her skin. Her heart beat faster. He stopped halfway from the bottom to motion toward the target with his chin.

Trista blinked. He wanted her to keep shooting? Was he nuts? She was so blurry-eyed from excitement she was starting to worry about their safety. But he was insistent, nudging her again.

She lifted her 9mm and took a deep breath, doing her best to lock her eyes on the man-shaped silhouette hanging from the cable. The task was made more difficult by the fact that Blake had finished with the buttons on her shirt and had wrapped his hands around her satin-covered breasts. She hadn’t thought her shirt had been that thick, but the increase in sensation let her know that was a lie. Her nipples tightened almost painfully against her bra.

Blake gave her a sharp nip on the neck to put her back on task. She lifted her head, took another breath and held it, then squeezed off a shot at the head of the target.

Hmm, another hit. She’d better be careful, or Blake might catch on to her game.

Buy it at Amazon!–Training-Badge-Bunnies-ebook/dp/B008WVOY92/ref=sr_1_43?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1344868738&sr=1-43

Buy it at Barnes & Noble!

Buy it at All Romance eBooks!


To check out the other books in the series, check out the links below!











Sexy Romantic Fiction!

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What is love? 

What is love?
“Image courtesy of Ventrilock /”.

I am in the love business. I spend most of my days dreaming up and creating happily ever after’s for the characters in my books. I think about, study and write about love very regularly and think I have a pretty good grasp on the difference between lust and love, the desire for both, and the things that make a relationship between a man and a woman truly amazing.

Then again, there are days where I am surprised, surprised by people, days where I have to sit back and just say wow.

Today was one of those days for me, a time when I found something online that made me take another look at what I thought was true, re-examine my perspective on life and love.

There’s a photo documentary of this beautiful couple showing clearly a series of 22  images portraying a couple being truly in love. Check them out here. It’s definitely worth the click.

Their photos are an amazing example of the love we all want, and the love, at the very core that we want to give to another person. It shows that truly loving someone is accepting them for who they are, and who they aren’t, adapting to anything life throws at them and being there to support one another. Love is not about looking a certain way or having money or a certain lifestyle, but it’s about giving your heart and accepting theirs. Forever.

We want love to be beautiful and easy and fun, but that’s not how it works. Sometimes love is hard, sometimes it’s ugly and sometimes it isn’t fun. But those times are the times we really see what we are made of, really see that having love makes it worth slogging through those times and seeing the sunshine at the end of the tunnel, and  love is worth the time and effort and work it takes to prove to ourselves to the people that we love that we will be there for them.

So, I want to know. What does love mean to you?


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The perfect lover…if only you can get him to stay.

Hello smutty folks!

Well, anyone who knows me a little, or who has picked up one of my books, will realize that I have a thing for the men of mythology. I mean, not that I have a problem with plumbers or dentists or accountants, especially the sexy ones, but when I fantasize I like to envision those larger-than-life dudes. The Greek gods. The vampires. The selkies.

Ever read the myths pertaining to selkie folk? Perhaps. There are even a few interesting books and movies out there dealing with the topic. However, most that I’ve seen are distinctly YA. This confuses me because in reading the myths from Scotland and Ireland, well, let’s just say the whole selkie appeal is drenched in sexuality.

For those who don’t know, selkie folk are supposed to be related to the Fae in some way. They are shape shifters, and can assume the form of a seal in water. However, selkie men and women can remove their pelts and assume human form as well. The old myths are full of stories of mortals stumbling upon a discarded selkie skin on the beach.

Now here’s the fun part. If you find a selkie skin, that selkie is obliged to pleasure you. Selkies are reputed to be astounding, indefatigable lovers!  In fact, they say if a mortal woman is unsatisfied with her love life, she can also cry 7 tears into the sea for a immortal selkie man. He will find her and love her as no mortal man can. BUT…and here’s the big but…the selkie will stay with you, unless he finds his skin. If he does, he will return to his beloved sea, never to be seen again.

There are countless tales of lovelorn human women and men, who stare out into the sea day after heartbreaking day, hoping for a glimpse of the selkie lover who abandoned them.

I made these myths the basis of my new novel The Selkie, an erotic paranormal set on the magical beaches of Orkney, Scotland. Read on for a little taste, and let me know if you might like to have a selkie lover of your own!


This was supposed to be her year. However, after losing her job and discovering her fiancé cheating, Maggie Collins has her doubts. When her grandmother dies, she hits rock bottom. Maggie travels to her grandmother’s home in Orkney, Scotland to sort through her gran’s things, only to discover the old woman has left her a seal pelt as her inheritance. She also learns that others are after the pelt.

To add to her frustration, Maggie’s dreams are filled with luscious images of a long-haired man, images that draw her to the magical beaches in Orkney. Although she’s lost her trust in men, this dream man inspires her with a lust she’s never known before.

Calan Kirk has also been dreaming. Dreaming of Maggie, the mortal woman who arouses him as no other woman ever has. Meeting her in the flesh when she arrives in Orkney is nothing short of spontaneous sexual combustion. But she is a human, and not to be trusted. He needs the seal pelt, not a red-haired temptress.

As a thief ransacks Maggie’s grandmother’s house, Maggie and Calan are thrust together. They must search for the animal skin, a mythical relic which once found, will either bring them together or rip them apart forever.


She was attempting to stand on her wobbly legs, only to fall back down on her bottom, when she heard the sound of splashing water. Thinking it was her seal, Maggie turned to look.

Her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t the animal at all.

It was a man. He was rising out of the waves, walking toward her. She froze. He was nude, utterly nude, and was staring at her with overflowing intimacy. As if they’d had, God help her, relations.

And she realized, with sudden panic, they’d had! In her dreams. He was the seal-man from all her sex dreams.

No. Impossible.

Her first instinct was to call for help, but there was no one near. And then she realized with frightening awareness that she didn’t want any help anyway. Glued to her spot, she couldn’t help but drink him in.

He was beautiful, if unnervingly wet and naked. He had long, shiny, brown hair that hung down past his shoulders. His face could have belonged on an ad for expensive cologne, and he had a body to match. Sculpted shoulders gave way to arms corded in muscle. His defined chest was blanketed by a smattering of sparse, brown hair that led tantalizingly to his rock-hard abs.

Maggie held her breath as her gaze traveled lower on his body, taking in trim calves and thighs a quarterback would envy. And, she noted with simultaneous hunger and horror, his penis was the biggest she’d ever had the pleasure of seeing. It was thick and long and glistening with the droplets of water that yet cascaded over his body. And it seemed to be reaching for her. She gulped, and forced herself to look back up at his face.

There was a faint glow about his skin, a shimmery aura. Dismissing it as a trick of the moonlight, she shook her head.

He was almost upon her, and his full lips were taut in a teasing grin. Maybe he was a surfer who’d lost not only his board, but his shorts in the waves. She knew she should be frantic, but wasn’t. There was something in his brown eyes that was so familiar, so soothing, even as they swept over her own body with lustful appreciation.

He stopped in front of her, and stood boldly, unashamed of his glorious nakedness. She managed to spit out one hushed word. “You.”

“You,” was his equally awed reply.

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Work It, Baby with Guest Suzanne Rock

Those of you who follow me on Facebook ( and Twitter ( know that I’ve been trying to lose weight for a while now. A little over a year ago, I became a stay at home mom and since then I’ve managed to gain twenty-five pounds. Wonderful, eh? I’ve tried all sorts of diets and exercise, but nothing seems to work. The weight is stuck.

I know that I’m not alone in my battle of the bulge. This phenomenon is common amongst writers. It’s so common that there is even a term for it—writer’s butt. Writing is a sedentary, solitary lifestyle, where the only thing you talk to in a twenty-four hour period is a bowl of peanut M&M’s. Let’s face it, on the sexy meter, it’s a big, fat zero.

So to combat my growing waistline, I decided to join a gym. It was a treat for myself once the kids got back to school. I know, I know, some of you are thinking, gym? Good God, why? Well, I’ll tell you why in one word—Zumba.

Zumba is this thing that was wildly popular a year ago. It’s not as popular now, but you can still find classes at a few gyms. Basically, it’s dancing to tribal music. The dance moves are designed to work your entire body and give you a complete workout. I’ve heard about Zumba, but had never tried it. I was told that it was a lot of fun and a great workout. I really wanted to try it. So, I picked a gym with a Friday morning Zumba class and showed up bright and early to give it a try.

Let me pause here and say that I am not coordinated. Not at all. But when the instructor told us to all shake our hips like Shakira, I went after it with a gusto. I got really into it. The music was sexy, and the moves this instructor had us to do were not appropriate for the under eighteen crowd, if you know what I’m saying, lol. Before I knew it, I was shaking my hips and snapping my fingers. I was smexy—yeah!

Then I made the mistake of looking in the mirror. Sure, I kept up with the rest of the class, but I looked…let’s just say I didn’t look that great. While all of the toned, svelte bodies gyrated and pumped to the music, I…jiggled. Not only did I jiggle, but my fair skin had turned tomato-red, and I looked like I was having a brush with death. It was humbling.

To make matters worse, the exercise room had this open window that looked directly into the weight-lifting area. (You know where I’m going with this, don’t you?) All of those hunky weightlifters could see just how much I wobbled across the dance floor. Although no one pointed and laughed, I could feel the gaze of every hot hunk in the room watching me with my hair bun and Jell-O thighs.

I learned a lot about myself in that Zumba class. First, I learned that I was clearly out of shape. Second, I learned that if I didn’t get over my embarrassment, I was never going to get in shape. So, I pulled up my big girl panties and decided not to care. I was having fun, and I was getting my smexy on. So my body isn’t svelte and I wasn’t the prettiest looking girl in the room. Who cares? We are all beautiful and sexy in our own way.

So I went to a second class, and a third. And when all of the women were afraid to stand in front of the window because a hunky tattooed Adonis might see them, I took one for the team. I just don’t care anymore. It’s fun, the instructor knows how to get her smexy on, and the scale is telling me that I’ve already lost five pounds. YAY!

So I’m challenging all of you readers to go out and get your smexy on this coming weekend. You don’t have to take a Zumba class, or even exercise. Just put on something that makes you feel beautiful, do up your hair and makeup and hit the town. We’re all beautiful and sexy beings, jiggly thighs and all.

Tell me what you do when you want to feel sexy in the comment section below, then go out and do it! You might be surprised with the results. 🙂

Oh yeah, and while you’re out, why don’t you pick up my fabulous warlock ménage book, Bonded in Blood? (Come on, you know I had to mention it.  ) Here are the details:


Order here:
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Cyrah has denied her pagan heritage and tried to live a normal life, but visions of two sexy strangers refuse to leave her alone. She senses trouble in their auras, and knows she must try to insert herself into their lives to stop it. Her strong attraction is difficult to control however, and one miscalculation leaves her captured by a powerful Coven and tied to a Master Warlock’s bed.

When Roman recognizes Cyrah as his destined mate, he makes every effort to keep her close. He lusts after the sexy witch, but can’t deny his attraction for his personal guard, Sam. His emotions are torn and Roman is unable to bind himself to either of them. Then he learns that Sam and Cyrah feel the same. Cyrah has an idea of how all three of them can become mates, but doing so would involve extremely kinky sex, denying ancient warlock tradition, and putting all of their lives in grave danger.


Using one of the plants for cover, Cyrah peeked into the side window of Roman’s office. She saw Roman clearly now, and felt the same magnetic pull she had felt earlier when she was trying to pinpoint his location. His aura surrounded him, the soft crimson telling her that his thoughts were centered on more earthly, physical things. It flickered with streaks of green. Calming streaks. She tried to catch a glimpse of the person he was talking to, but the figure remained just out of sight. She could see his aura, however. It was dark green with golden flecks. Roman was talking to a healer, or someone with a calming presence.

She continued to watch Roman as he talked. Her gaze slid down from his firm lips to his broad shoulders and then to his tight, round ass. Desire sparked in her lower abdomen, and her heartbeat quickened. She felt hot despite the central air-conditioning vent right above her.

The attraction she had felt when she first saw him in her vision was nothing like what she felt now. In her dreams he was amazing, but in reality he was breathtaking. Roman Maddock was tall and muscular and took care of his appearance. He had an authoritative presence that spoke to a spot deep inside of her. No woman could resist such commanding masculinity. Roman was definitely drool-worthy.

With each passing moment, the dull ache in her core grew. She wanted to burst into his office, strip off her clothes, and wrap herself around him like a blanket. She could never do that, however. Roman was just a man, and knew nothing of visions and the mating heat of witches and warlocks. She didn’t want to scare him.

Cyrah gasped as the other person in the office moved into her line of vision. It was the one from her dreams, Roman’s companion. She’d know that dirty-blond hair and those angular features anywhere. While Roman was long and lean like a soccer player, his companion was broader, more muscular. She suspected that Roman’s friend had spent a lot of time lifting weights or doing heavy labor to get such a chiseled physique.

Cyrah widened her eyes as she watched them interact. There was an easy familiarity about them, as if they were close friends. Roman said something, and the other man laughed. Then Roman ran his hand down his friend’s arm. The other man closed his eyes. Cyrah saw the man’s aura turn from green to bright crimson. Whatever Roman did made the other man’s thoughts turn more worldly and primal. Cyrah held her breath in anticipation.

Roman slid his hand up and cupped the other man’s cheek. Their gazes met, and Cyrah didn’t need to see their auras to know that they desired each other. Not friends, then, but lovers. She thought the information would squelch the burning heat between her thighs, but it only made it hotter.

Roman leaned forward and captured his lover’s lips. The kiss was gentle and affectionate. Cyrah inched closer to the window and pictured herself pressed in between them. What would they smell like? How would all of those hard muscles feel against her skin? She imagined them kissing her with as much passion as they kissed each other.

Roman swept his tongue into his lover’s mouth. The man eased his hands forward and began to undo Roman’s pants. Their auras turned from crimson to fire-engine red. Cyrah shivered as her need escalated.

The kiss changed from affectionate to desperate. They slanted over each other’s mouths again and again as they tore at their constricting clothes. With their pants removed and shirts unbuttoned, they palmed each other’s chest, shoulders, and ass. They ground their hips together as if they wanted to fuse their bodies into one being. Their auras blended and grew until they filled the entire room, as often happened when people felt strong emotions.

Cyrah knew that she should leave. The lovers obviously wanted some privacy. She tried to stand and walk down the hall, but she couldn’t make her feet move. Her message for them was too important. Besides, she had never seen two men kiss before, and it fascinated her. As she watched, pressure built deep inside her core, and her panties became damp. The urge to participate was overwhelming. What was wrong with her? Never before had she felt such strong desire. A primal longing pulsed through her, making her want to weep with frustration.

Cyrah grabbed her breasts in an attempt to relieve some of the ache. She squeezed and pinched her nipples as she watched the men undress each other but could barely feel her ministrations through her cleaning uniform.

What was it about these men that affected her? They were physically appealing, yes, but she had seen attractive men before. None of them caused such an intense reaction. Was it possible to die of unsatisfied lust?

Cyrah glanced behind her and confirmed that the hall was empty. She positioned herself so that most of her body was shielded by the plant and then undid her pants. She rested her head on the window as she pulled her navy trousers and panties down around her ankles. What she was doing was completely insane, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. The emotions were just too strong.

She spread her knees apart and bit back a groan as cool air kissed her wet folds. Cyrah plunged her finger into her slick channel. Her muscles stretched, but not enough. She needed more, much more. She turned back to the window.
Roman was the first to break the kiss. Both men were breathing heavily as Roman turned his lover around and bent him over the desk. Cyrah moistened her lips as Roman walked around to the other side and grabbed something out of one of the drawers. What was he doing?

Categories: Guest Blogger, Guest Post, Life, New Release, Uncategorized | 5 Comments

Time Management…Can I Clone Myself?

Photo purchased from/Copyright (c) 123RF Stock Photos
Photo purchased from/Copyright (c) 123RF Stock Photos

With summer being over and kids going back to school many of us are back to trying to juggle our time. If not for family, than to write, read, or even have a moment to ourselves.

I won’t deny it, I’m a list person.  Even now as I type this I have a notebook next to me with a list of things I must do and I have my trusty highlighter next to it to mark off the stuff I’ve finished.

Can I live without lists? For sure, but I find them a lot more easier when it comes to spreading out things I have to do that day or that week.

I have noticed that as more projects come my way I sometimes struggle with trying to get everything done. It feels like there are not enough hours in the day. Not enough days in the week.

It is not easy to manage time when you are trying to balance life, family and a career. As authors we are not only writing the books but we are responsible for everything that comes along with our career. We have to find some kind of balance between responsibility, life and career.

At times it can be a bit overwhelming and we feel like no matter how much work we do we have barely made a dent in the pile that grows larger and larger.

I have come to the conclusion that there will never be enough time to do everything that we want to do so the only thing we can do is take it one day at a time. We also have to learn not to take on so much and make the pile grow so high where it is ready to tumble over. I know myself that sometimes I have a hard time saying no and take on way too many things at once.

Unless we discover a way to clone ourselves we have to try to do our best when it comes to time management.

I will continue to work away with my list and try to plan and work my time around so that I can get the most out of the hours I do have.

Do you sometimes feel overwhelmed with your work? Do you make lists to try to manage your time?

stay naughty,

As always come on over and join me on Facebook and my Official Site. I’ve got contests and events going on all the time. Keep up with my books and flashers. All the fun and naughty things in my world.

Categories: 69 Shade Of Smut, Life | Tags: , , , | 18 Comments

Turning Fantasy into Fiction with Krystal Brookes

I am a real geek. I thought I should get that out of the the way first. I love going to conventions and meting the actors from Star Trek, Firefly, Battlestar Galactica etc. I help out at the conventions doing all sorts of jobs including keeping queues at photoshoots moving, sitting beside guests and assisting them as they sign autographs, general dogsbody, and helping out with the catering for guests and crew. They are always very busy but ultimately fun weekends.

Through the conventions circuit I have witnessed a number of reactions to meeting an idol.
1. Catatonia – these people just stare at their idol adoringly and are unable to form a coherent sentence or sometimes even meet the celebrity’s eye. I always wonder how much they kick themselves afterwards or if they remember it as a blissful moment.
2. Effusiveness – “I love your work,” “I’m your biggest fan,” “you’re my favourite Star Trek Captain.” the last one was exactly what I said to Kate Mulgrew (Captain Janeway in Star Trek Voyager) the first time I met her. I still cringe at that. Usually these people end up in tears either in front of the guest or just after they leave their presence.
3. The clever questioner – The person who thinks they are asking a really novel question – “How long did it take to put on all the make up?” “Do you not think your character and Chakotay should have got together?” “Will the show ever get a movie made for it?” When you sit with a guest you hear the same questions asked all day. The mark of a good actor is that they don’t look as if it’s the hundredth time that day they’ve been asked that.
4. The person who really spends too much time thinking about these things. “In episode 21 of season three, when you beamed down onto that alien planet and lost your communicator badge, why did the crew not search for you using biometric technology?” Gah! Cos it’s a TV show?

There are of course a number of other rewactions but these are my favourite. But these reactions are caused by fantasies, whether they be fantasies of what you will say when you eventually meet your idol, or fantasies about what will happen in the aftermath. As someone with an over-active imagination, I usually get as far as driving them back to my place and stripping their clothes off half-way up the stairs.

It was these fantasies which fuelled the writing of Fan Girl and the Geek. I like to call it my fantasy autobiography. What if I did meet my idol, or even someone from a show I love and we got on really well? Would I go for it, seduce them, play hard to get? What would you do? Photobucket

Sadly, I suspect I will never know. But at least I got to live out my fantasies through the eyes of my heroine Shona Ross.

Fan Girl and the Geek will be available from from 27th September 2012.

Rhett Williams, the hunky captain on the TV show Starship Einstein, is coming to a convention in the UK, and Shona Ross is determined to meet him. Having spent years dreaming about the handsome actor, she nurtures dreams of becoming more than just a fan.

When Rhett does not live up to expectations and leaves Shona despondent, Daniel Adams, the geeky kid from the show, befriends her. Only he’s no longer a geeky kid. In fact, her attraction to him is almost interplanetary. Can Shona get over her infatuation, forget about Daniel’s weak role, and see the man for what he is now?


“This is the life.” Shona held onto the rail at the deep end of the pool, and kicked her legs leisurely. They had the pool to themselves, and the night air was warm. The stars shone clearly in the black sky above the rural resort.
There was a splash at her side as Kirsten took off for another couple of lengths of the pool. Honestly, the girl was incapable of just relaxing and enjoying the water. If Shona had been willing, they would now be engaged in a long race to see who could swim fifty lengths the fastest.

She didn’t bother to look when there was another splash at her side. She assumed Kirsten had come back to tell her something. “What time is the opening party, anyway?”

“Nine o’clock.” The deep American voice startled her and caused her to let go of the railing. Luckily she was still kicking her legs and was able to adjust herself to tread water.

“I’m sorry,” he said taking her hand and guiding it back to the railing. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” She looked up into a pair of dark, velvety brown eyes, which looked concerned but had a glimpse of mischief in them.

“It’s OK. Thanks.”

“I’m Daniel.”

“I know. Umm, I mean, nice to meet you. I’m Shona.”

“You’re Scottish.”



“Not always. Scotland can be pretty wet and cold most of the year.”

“So I’ve heard, though I’ve never been. Are you an attendee at the convention?”

“No, I’m crewing.”

His gaze flicked down towards her breasts and back up to her face. Her cleavage was very obvious in her swimming costume, and she grimaced internally. He was used to Hollywood women who were flawless and all a size zero. She had an ample butt and a couple of love handles.

She noticed Kirsten slipping out of the pool and giving her a little wave as she disappeared into the hotel, wrapped in a towel.

“I hope we get the chance to talk at some point over the weekend.”

“That would be nice. Anyway, I’d best go and get ready for the party. It takes ages to dry my hair.”

She needed to get away from his intense gaze. It was making her heart flip in a way that it hadn’t for a long time.

“I’d better do a few laps. I’ve been eating rubbish for two days. I’ll be like Man Mountain if I’m not careful.”

This time she allowed her own gaze to flick over his perfectly formed pecs and the flat, ripped stomach that he was patting.

“Is that a lame attempt to get me to tell you that you’re not fat?” she teased. “I thought it was only women who fished for compliments.”

Daniel threw his head back and laughed. “Am I so transparent?” he asked, the gleam back in his eye.

“I’m afraid so.”

“It’s nice to meet someone at one of these conventions who doesn’t want to just flatter my ego.”

“Sorry, the Scots just don’t do flattery and ego massage.”

“In that case, I look forward to visiting.”

“You can always stay on my couch.” What was she saying? She’d just invited this actor to come and stay with her. Even though he’d never take her up on the offer in a million years, it was still a bit forward. “I’m sorry,” she spluttered. “I meant…”

“I’m sure your couch would be much preferable to a bed in a faceless hotel chain,” he grinned.

“Well it’s an open invitation to anyone who was in the cast of Starship Einstein.”

“I’ll be sure to spread the word,” he grinned.

“Hotel Ross is now open.”

He laughed again.

“It was lovely meeting you, Shona.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Daniel. I hope you enjoy the convention.”

“This one certainly has its appeals.” His gaze held hers, and she was unable to tear her gaze away from him. “Well,” he said, clearly feeling a little uncomfortable, “I’d best…” He pointed at the pool, and she smiled and nodded, then watched as he swam away.

Surely he wasn’t interested in her. But he’d made all the right overtures. Anyway, he lived in Los Angeles. It was silly even to think about such things.

Categories: 69 Shade Of Smut, Books, Characters, Guest Blogger, Guest Post, New Release | Tags: , , , | 3 Comments

Back to…Yesterday?

Well here we are again. Hopefully all the kiddie poohs have made it back to school and parents everywhere are settling into a schedule. I know it was a very hectic week for me and this week appears a little better, but not much. 🙂

Just three words. Jealousy. Sugar. Contraceptives.

Are you wondering what the heck I’m talking about? Good. 🙂 I have a book releasing Friday, September 14 from Evernight Publishing, Street Safe.

One of the subplots in the story surrounds sugar and an old Victorian house I got to tour one afternoon some months back. I’ve posted pics here.

The house was part of a farm, a couple of the outbuildings are still there, but the farm belongs to someone else. What was really neat about this house was being able to actually touch and take pictures of different fixtures. And I peppered my guide with lots of questions. She and her son were very knowledgeable about the house, its history and its occupants.

Somehow being surrounded by all that history inspired Street Safe and a news story or two I read on Yahoo inspired another twist and incorporated all those things into a rather interesting tale. At least that’s what my editor says. 🙂


Until next time, Indulge Your Inner Romantic.


Street Callan wants only one thing from the sultry voluptuous woman in red heels, a night of steamy, unadulterated sex.

Na’arah Simmons has no problem submitting to Street’s seductive allure, since she shares in the attraction.

When their one night stand leaves her with an unplanned souvenir, his less than desired response will force her to move on.

However, when she’s the only witness to a brutal murder, Na’arah has only Street to turn to if she wants to save herself and her unborn child.



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You Might Be A Pervert If…

Happy Sunday, 69ers! It’s that time again…time to play with me. “You Might Be a Pervert If,” that is. So let’s get right up on that pervert stick and play. Why yes, you might be a pervert if you thought dirty thoughts about what I just said. Wink, wink.

  • You might be a pervert if…a friend of yours went horseback riding and then told you that she “was only riding an hour before her ass started to hurt.” And you think, “What was his name?”
  • You might be a pervert if…you and your friends made up an alternative adult alphabet. (Think – ‘A is for Anal’ rather than “A is for Apple’)
  • You might be a pervert if…you open your e-mail and have five or more catalogs from adult stores.
  • You might be a pervert if…you can name the majority of the porn stars in the adult video store.
  • You might be a pervert if…you walk into a house with a realtor and think to yourself, “Wow, this would make a great room for a porn scene.” Or even better, you walk into a house and ask the realtor, “Wow, was this the house in the porn flick Riding the Rails? It looks awfully familiar.
  • You might be a pervert if…you walk into a friend’s basement and think, “You know, a St. Andrew’s Cross would set off that corner perfectly.” (Hmm, Wonder if Vern Yip would be willing….Oh! That brings me to the next one.)
  • You might be a pervert if…you have written in to HGTV for help with building the perfect dungeon.
  • You might be a pervert if…you went to an autograph signing at an adult store. (I was so bummed when I missed that event.)
  • You might be a pervert if…you look for one of the following “board” games in a chain store: Gay or Straight; Boxers, Briefs, or Commando; Top or Bottom.
  • You might be a pervert if…you know of at least three things to do with ginger that involves your body, and only one of them can include ingestion.
  • You might be a pervert if…you see red and blue lights behind you and think to yourself, “God, I hope he has his handcuffs out.”
  • You might be a pervert if…you see a state trooper and think of the song “You Can Leave Your Hat On.”
  • You might be a pervert if…you read or hear the word ‘violet’ and think of a wand.
  • You might be a pervert if…you watch Pirates of the Caribbean and fantasize about Johnny and Orlando in a major lip lock. (Preferably on a bed without a stitch of clothes. Um, where was I?)
  • You might be a pervert if…you go to get your oil changed and giggle when the hot mechanic asks you if you want a lube job. (No one would blame you if you said yes…)
  • You might be a pervert if…you see a group of three people and immediately think to yourself, “Wonder if they’re in a ménage?”
  • You might be a pervert if…you request extra studs in your ceiling when you’re building your house. (Safety first. Sturdiness is essential when hanging a sex swing).
  • You might be a pervert if…you pervert a stuffed animal at Build-A-Bear (Think Bondage Bear, baby!).
  • You might be a pervert if…you have to call the firemen to get handcuffs cut off. (That is an awfully convenient – I mean good – reason for a visit from the fine firemen of Fire House 69)
  • You might be a pervert if…you married a sailor only because he is good with knots. (And he looks rather dishy in his uniform, too!)
  • You might be a pervert if…your hottie closet is bigger than your actual closet.
  • You might be a pervert if…you are actually reading this blog!

So are you a pervert? Goodness knows that I am. And let me tell you, I wear the badge proudly. I hope you do, too!



Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: , , , | 30 Comments

Look whose book is a recommended read on USA Today!

Along with other red-hot Romantica from Ellora’s Cave, but it’s my 15 minutes to 48 hours of fame and I’m still riding the new release high, so please indulge me. Check it out!

You’ve met MacCale and Lucie, but what’s Perpetual Pleasure all about again? The story begins, as these stories often do, with a boy meets girl setup. Or rather girl sees perfect one-night stand material but seduction doesn’t go as planned. What follows certainly doesn’t follow our heroine’s plan or her triple F system of survival: Find ’em, fuck ’em, forget ’em. She is an immortal, a twenty-six-year-old Savannahian going on two hundred and sixty. [Depending on your bloodlust, the bad news: not a vampire, the good news: not a vampire.]

The story came to me as Alex Rising once did, in flashes of what later became the opening scene. I saw this mysterious, magnetic woman working the room at a party. She screamed sophistication and savoir faire. And she was totally fake somehow, as if it was only an act, as if she was wearing some kind of mask. There was a man in the room thinking the exact same thing, seeing right through her, and as thoroughly mesmerized and fascinated by her as I was.

The man, our hero, is a daredevil. He’s not looking for a one-night stand, more like a one-life stand, and he isn’t sated with a quickie. But when you’re immortal like our heroine is, relationships, short-lived or long-term, aren’t really an option. Your lovers aren’t getting any younger and you’re not getting any older. How does that work? I kept thinking about how lonely Lucie had to be and really felt for her, but she laughed at my pity because she was doing just fine. She was immortal after all. And only human. That’s what MacCale will remind her of. But he doesn’t understand her motivation or how she feels until later, much later. Too late?

So what happened to Lucie? Will MacCale get through to her? The bad news: you’ll have to read the book to find out. The good news: it’s now available from Ellora’s Cave and coming soon to a third party e-tailer near you! (I’ll add links to my personal page as they go live, just click my name on the banner.)


Stunt performer MacCale Moore knows a thing or two about seduction. And he knows all about putting on a show. The Savannahian bombshell coming on strong is tempting all right. But there’s something wrong with the picture. Seeing through her charade isn’t the problem. Convincing a flaming femme fatale to trust him with her heart and not just her body may well turn out to be the hardest stunt he’s ever had to perform.

No dating. No cuddling. No emotion. No exceptions. Lucie Marcotte’s system of survival has saved her from heartache for two hundred years and counting. Now her latest conquest is asking to be more than just another link in her endless chain of one-night stands. So what if it’s the best sex she’s ever had? Their relationship has nowhere to go. But how to convince him or stop herself from hurting them both, she has no idea. Before Lucie knows it, she is breaking all her rules. And for an immortal, that’s just flirting with disaster.

Enjoy, 69ers, and have yourself a sexcellent weekend. Muah!

Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

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