Sunday, 23 November 2014

Sunday Surprise - Ravenous Romance

I'm excited to find and feature publishers that are new to me. I have some author friends published with this one, but I didn't visit their site before now. Ravenous Romance specializes in affordable sexy reads. Let's take a look at some of their latest releases, all of which are $4.99 each! They also have a special where if you buy 4 books (hey, look, 4 new books) you get a fifth one free.

Bad Boy Menage is an anthology including The Bounty by Nicole Wilder and Carrie's and Bridget's Bucket List by Kimber Vale. The compilation is edited by F. Leonora Solomon who promises one bad boy after another.



In Ryan Field's Too Hard To Handle, conservative Dan meets Cass who claims he’s related to storied Texas Ranger, Kit Acklin. Although Dan is still mourning the death of his boyfriend and hot Cass is a self-proclaimed no-good drifter, they are offered the dream job of a lifetime on TV. It all takes place in peaceful Glendora Hill, Texas, which will be familiar to readers of Ryan.

Chloe Stowe has released Pound, the second in her Lion and the Steed series. In this installment, Dr. Samuel Lyon and Brevyn Steed settle into their new lives together expecting the sweet calm of sameness and security to settle down around them. However, when a silent film thought lost to a fire 90 years ago is stolen from a private collection, Brevyn and Sam are hired to recover it. The thief’s trail quickly forces the couple to abandon their New York City environs for the sunbaked coast of Sicily.

Once Upon A Menage combines the love of three with the magic of fairy tale. Authors include: Celeste Hall, Ramona Leigh, Naomi ShawMuffy WilsonManlius Latham, V. Shepard and Louisa Bacio. Edited by Rachel Kenley, this book will definitely scratch that itch for magic with your erotica.

We are lucky enough to have an excerpt from one of Naomi Shaw's contributions to this anthology. Here's a taste of Beauty's Beast:


The weather was warm, with sunbeams shining, so later in the afternoon Rosie walked to the local library, where she often went, to return a few books. She took a shortcut along a gravelly road, where the stones crunched beneath her feet and hurt her soles as she walked with light footsteps. The shortcut took her past the Old House that loomed up behind a tall gated terrain. It was huge, gray-stoned, aged, and full of mystery, with a wild rose garden she could just about make out behind its surrounding walls. She looked in, deciding to investigate on her return journey.

On the way home, Rosie paused at Old House. Her vivid imagination allowed her wild fantasies of what could go on inside and she recalled them now.

Her eyes misted over and her red lips curled into a smile as she imagined heavy red drapes drawn tightly closed, concealing wild sex with people tied up to live out their innermost fantasies. Quite forgetting she was in a public place and might be spotted any minute, Rosie’s hand slipped between her thighs to stroke where the crotch of her panties had become damp.

“Mm,” she purred. “Lovely.” She sucked her fingers, wishing another could do that for her, then stopped suddenly, realizing she could be seen by any passersby.

Looking at the lion statues that rested on pillars either side of the old brass gate she said, “I bet you could tell a tale or two.” Rosie’s thoughts were increasing her curiosity about the place, and noticing one of the gates left slightly ajar, she thought this was an opportunity far too good to pass up. Using both arms, she leaned her full weight against it, trying to shift the gate open a little more. Finally with creaks and groans, she managed to shift it a few more inches, enough to squeeze through into the grounds.

She sidestepped off the stone driveway into what her father had called a wild rose garden. Dad was not wrong about this garden, she thought. It would be a shame to leave it untended. With fingers trailing around the velvet petals of rose blooms struggling to show their blooms through a tangle of woody briars and thorns, Rose wandered through. “Ouch!” she exclaimed when while breathing in the aroma of one of the flowers, she inadvertently caught her finger on a thorn. She withdrew her hand quickly and sucked the blood seeping from the cut.

“Now that was a stupid thing to do,” a deep voice boomed from behind her, although she had never heard his footsteps. “Let me see.” Rosie swished around to see where the voice came from. She saw a tall man of medium build with thinning gray hair, dressed formally. “I am butler to the Master. He does not like people on his property and wants to see you.”

“But I have to go home—” Rosie began but the man cut her short.

“You don’t want to disappoint the Master. His powers of persuasion are very strong and you would not want to annoy him. Follow me.”

If you have a publisher featured on Sunday Surprise, leave a comment or send me an email.

Friday, 21 November 2014

Flasher Fiction Friday - Gabriel

Landing with a thud, Gabriel flipped head over heels, left over right, tumbling over coarse cutting sand. Pushing himself up, he saw the impact crater where he had landed on the beach. It was easy to follow his path, a large skid that ended where he now sat.  He put a hand to his head, trying to get his bearings. This plane was familiar to him, but he’d never felt so solid here. Before he was a visitor, now he was an exile. He hung his head and tried not to regret his choices as his wings disappeared behind him.

There are many more takes on this picture, each only 100 words. Find them all on the blog.

Thursday, 20 November 2014

Thursday Taster - Gentleman #11

This Thursday, I thought I'd slip back to Gentleman. You might remember the party where he met Lynn and was slapped by his wife. We pick up just a few days later. Tastes of all sorts can be found on the blog.

Harrold knocked on the door. Lynn had told him to return in three days, but he couldn't wait. A large black man answered the door a few minutes later.
“What do you want?”
Harrold frowned. “Do your owners let you speak like that?”
The man seized him by the throat. “I am free now. I take orders from no one.”
Harrold pulled at the man's fingers, starting to struggle for breath.
The man who had met him at the door on his first visit appeared behind the giant slave, the freed man.
“That one is Lynn's, Will. Let him go, please. We don't need to deal with bodies.”
Harrold felt the blood leave his face at the cold words. This man could easily strangle him.
“Well, I wouldn't want Lynn's ire.” Will opened his hand and Harrold held his knees as he violently coughed air back into his lungs. There was blood splattered on Will's pants, making Harrold that much more grateful for release. Whose blood did he wear? “You will wait in the parlor until Lynn collects you.” He stretched out his right arm, pointing and revealing more blood on the cuff.
Harrold practically ran to get away from the homicidal black man. Both men disappeared down the hall. Harrold paced the parlor, admiring portraits, including one of Lynn with the blond man in the hall. Another woman with equally dark hair but glittering blue eyes, and a man slightly darker than the one he'd seen. There was also a portrait of the slave, freed man. He looked menacing even there. Eventually, Harrold tired and sat in one of the chairs, wondering how late he was willing to wait.
“Harrold?” The musky smell of sex followed Lynn's entry.
He rose from the chair, taking her hand and bowing over it. “Madam.”
She smiled and waited for him to straighten. “I have use of you.” She turned, robe swirling out around her knees and making Harrold long to remove it.
She didn't go far down the hall before stopping and holding the door for him. It was, in fact, the same room they'd met in previously.
On the bed lay a dark skinned woman, another slave, he supposed. He'd never given Polly more than a glance, but this woman had curves to shame his maid's slight frame. His gaze seemed fastened to her nipples that somehow managed to be darker than her already black skin. 


Remember to visit the blog!

Tuesday, 18 November 2014

Tantalizing Tuesday - Them There Hills

“Pull over,” I told him. “It’s my turn to drive. You need sleep.”
“I’m fine,” he argued, rubbing his eyes. “I couldn’t sleep anyway, not knowing what’s back there.”
I didn’t blame him. I’d dozed off but was woken with horrible dreams mixed with memories.
“You can’t keep driving. You’re swerving all over the road. Pull over. It’ll take ten seconds to swap seats.”
He seemed to weight whether that was fast enough, whether the risk of his driving was worse than the risk of losing ten seconds.
“We’re going to have to get gas soon anyway. We can’t keep going like this.”
“The hell we can’t.” He did pull over, braking hard. I braced myself on the dash. “Move.” He ordered, jumping out the driver’s door.
I didn’t hesitate, leaping over the hood and sliding in the door. It was like something out of Dukes of Hazard, and I couldn’t believe I pulled it off. However, I was in the seat ahead of Max and popping it in drive as soon as his door closed.
“We can get gas in the mountains,” I said, nodding my head toward them. “They’ll freeze up there.”

“Mountains. Freezing. Good.” His eyes closed.

Check out all the 200 word teasers by clicking through to the blog.

Sunday, 16 November 2014

Sunday Surprise - Yellow Silk Dreams

Start your week off with some newly released surprises from Yellow Silk Dreams. This group of independent authors have banded together to release a myriad of fiction.

Let's start with an anthology. Do you believe in magically ever after?
Four of the best writers of modern erotic fiction have created a different story of the magical enchantment of love and passion. Enchanted includes pieces from Gemma Parkes, Jocelyn Modo, Cindy Jacks and Jaqueline George.

Rebecca Lorenson brings Shakespeare's fairies to life again in Midsummer Dreaming. Two dreamy voyages, guided by Puck, bring romance for some and mischief for others. Sarah and Anna are both searching without hope for true love and Puck can bring both mayhem and good fortune.

Old memories are like old red wine - all the richer for time passed. And the kisses taste sweeter too. Muffy Wilson bring us three romantic and very sexy stories take us back to things as they once were in Memories and Kisses. A grieving woman rescued from the sea, two childhood friends growing old friendship into passionate loving, and two long separated teenagers finding that time has mellowed them both, all three stories of rekindled love are ready to burst into flame.
And here is an excerpt from The Storm.

I walk to the surf, heaving for breath, weak from running against the rain, fighting the storm, the sadness, my loss - your death. I walk into the surf and keep walking. It is surprisingly warm and enveloping. I suddenly feel comforted, my heartbreak no longer a penetrating pain. I know you are with me and I seek out your embrace. I cry again, scream at the thunderous surf, and then I am gone. I can’t breathe and I am falling, rolling, tumbling in a hazy grey darkness that is wet, ferocious, demanding. Suddenly my dizzy comfort turns to fear and I struggle against the pounding, relentless waves. What have I done? I am a good swimmer and an athlete, but can I beat this? Instinct overcomes me. My heart pounds. I start to kick wildly. Moving my arms toward the surface, the current catches me again, tumbling me over and over. My lungs burn. I lose my bearing—which way is up, down? I start to get a sickening feeling of death, my own impending death, and, just as I start to give in, I feel the hand of God grab my hair and hood in a fierce grip and yank me to the surface. I feel the sky darken and the surf diminish. Everything tastes salty, gritty, and then my body heaves, relaxed, and my world goes black.

I awake to pounding on my chest; I am being rattled and something is covering my mouth and nose. I cough, retch, and then vomit the last vestiges of the ocean from my body. My mouth is filled with grit, sand, and the salty taste of taffy. I open my eyes and see God reaching down toward me. He leans over me and the salty ocean water drips from his face to mine. He is big, strong, and gasping; he is surrounded in a glowing aura which intensifies his white hair and white beard. I am frightened. I must be dead. But that cannot be! How foolish I am. He sits me up, tenderly and gently helps me to my feet, all the while holding me securely with large strong hands and then he speaks to me.

“Are you alright, miss? You scared me near to death when I saw you walk into the surf. Why in the world….Where do you live?”

I am alive to my senses.

“Wha. . . ?” My knees weaken and I fall further into his arms. Quickly, he catches my descent and carries me to a bench where he sits me down, moving the errant curls of hair from my cheeks, and speaks to me again.

“Where are you staying? Shall I call the police?”

I can feel my heart pounding against his chest.

“No, please, I’m . . . I’ll be fine. My key, my pocket; it’s in my pocket. Please…” I can’t remember my hotel or where I am or why. As he unzips my pocket and removes my hotel key, he pulls my hood up over my head to shelter my face from the pelting rain. Collecting me under his arm, my body firmly in his grip, we walk slowly back to the hotel. The traffic is still sparse, no taxis to be seen. It seems to take forever. The storm is so much worse, the surf so high, sucking the wind into the watery folds as it retreats to the ocean. At once, I am so scared that I begin to tremble and yet, I feel protected.

As we walk into the hotel lobby, the bell captain approaches us and asks if I need the hotel doctor, whereupon my guardian says, “No, that won’t be necessary, thank you.”

We take the elevator to my floor and I am finally in the sanctity of my room, as lonely as it is. My savior, my hero sits me in the desk chair while he goes to the bathroom and starts the shower. He returns. He is saying something to me that I can’t understand, but he starts to take my shoes off. Then he leans me forward, removes my windbreaker and sports bra, and helps me stand while he pulls relentlessly at my wet spandex knee-highs. He kicks off his own running shoes and removes his blazer. He carries me to the shower but I feel as if I’m watching the scene unfold from outside my own body. I am unafraid of this stranger.

The water is hot and piercing, but he is gentle, loving, and tender. He bathes me and washes my hair, lifting the removable nozzle to rinse the sand, grit, and seaweed from my hair and lithe body. My skin is a deep pink from the intense extreme of the cold grasp of the ocean and the heated comfort of the hot shower. His hands are everywhere, on every curve, gently caressing my skin with his soapy fingertips. He deftly, tenderly, washes my breasts, my taunt stomach and pussy. He controls himself, but I can’t let him stop. I look up at him, and notice he is watching himself bathe me. He seems to caress my buttocks as he cleans the sand from between my rounded cheeks. Unembarrassed, he rinses my body thoroughly, running his fingers though my shoulder-length brown hair. I feel safe, warmed, yet surprisingly aroused, weakened by my ordeal.

For the first time, it seems, he looks down at me. He takes me in as I look up at him, transfixed by his control. I am naked in my sorrow and my pain; he, fully clothed except for his windbreaker and shoes, smiles, touching my heart. I did not notice his erection in the shower, he is a complete gentleman. My breasts, the curve of my belly to my thigh, my face against his chest glisten in the shower, as I trust him to help me.

If you are a publisher or author and have new releases, email me, authorangelicadawson at gmail.com

Thursday, 13 November 2014

Thursday Taster - Slave #10

Thursday again and that means one more scene with Will. This will wrap up the opening to Slave. I'll switch back to Gentleman next week, so pop back here to remember where we left off. More tastes on the blog.

“Sophia, look at him. He is in utter bliss.”
Will opened his eyes and looked at Sophia from the corner of them. He didn’t rise, didn’t swallow.
“Oh,” she said in amazement. “You shouldn’t have done it here,” she said in a hiss.
“It wasn’t me. He started with my pet.”
Sophia slammed her fist hard on the table, making the salt seller and pepper mill jump and topple. “Dammit. After Terrance’s debacle, I thought I was clear on this. I don’t want him in our rooms. He is neither one of us nor one of them. Don’t make me regret keeping him. I’ll sell him,” she threatened. “Tomorrow. He should have a normal life.”
Will did swallow then. “No. Please. I won’t go in any of the rooms again. Just let me have this,” he said, reaching for Nicholas again.
Sophia held his wrist, stopping him from touching Nicholas. “You can’t have us,” she said with a sigh. “You see what you’ve done?”
“Don’t worry, Will. You can stay and we’ll find you nice boys to play with,” Nicholas said with a smile.
Sophia continued to glare at both of them. “You will fix this,” she said, holding Will’s hand out toward Nicholas’.
Taking Will’s hand, he pulled him to his feet.
“I bet you’re half-drunk on that, aren’t you?” Nicholas asked. “Let’s get you in your bed.”
“Oil,” Will said, brow furrowing. “Why do you taste like oil?”
The salt seller and pepper mill jumped again as Sophia drove two fists into the table.
Nicholas continued to guide the boy by his shoulders. “You’ll figure it out.”

Tuesday, 11 November 2014

Tantalizing Tuesday - Now or Never

Staying a fair distance back, I followed her. She was dressed all in white, a good choice for this hot and sunny day. Her broad brimmed sunhat saved her face and nose from burning, but the backs of her legs had turned pink and were heading to red. She cursed, pulling off one sandal to kick out a rock.
Taking advantage of her pause, I surged forward, my curiosity overwhelming my fear. I had been trying to introduce myself to her for a week now. We were both going home before long. I was running out of time.
“Hi.” My words were drowned out by a passing bus. What horrible luck. Slipping her shoe back on, she was down the sidewalk before I could say anything more. I tried to stay closer, but my fear got the better of me and I dragged my feet, falling further and further behind.
I heard her curse again, and this time she removed both shoes, opting to walk barefoot rather than pick up pebbles. I continued walking, drawing nearer but staying silent.
I was unprepared for her to whirl around and face me. “Why are you following me?”

It was now or never.

There are more pictures and more story available on the blog. Be sure to check them all out.