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Wednesday, November 26, 2014

#Excerpt Princess Curvy: A Curvy Girl's Italian Affair

Chapter One
Milan, Italy   

            Vestito sexy o modesto?” Natalia Dolcini wrinkled her nose in distaste and glared at the two dresses in front of her.
She rarely did modest. What was the point? But this was a stuffy event and most likely mind-numbingly dull if the name of the dinner was anything to go by. After all, nothing screamed tedious like the European Financiers’ Annual Banquet.
Lips pursed, hands on her hips, she tapped her fingers along her generous curves and tried to decide which to wear. Looking over her shoulder at her housekeeper, Carlotta, Natalia silently asked her opinion.
Carlotta pointed to the modest dress. “It would be a change—”
 Damn!she cursed. “We must remember to speak in English.”
            Carlotta snorted, “Why must we speak in a foreign language?”
            “I told you, Carlotta,” Natalia said and returned her attention back to the dresses. “I’m making everyone at the shop speak in English. It’s my rule since I have everyone from New York to the moon working with me,” Natalia added with a wild flourish of her hands.
“The one language they can all speak is English.” She paused and added with another laugh. “Even the green headed Martians. So I must make sure mine is good and yours, too!”
            Natalia laughed and curled a lock of dark hair around her finger. “And have I told you how amusing it is to see Gina and Violet argue over the Queen’s English versus American English?”
            “Funny, I’m sure.” Carlotta shrugged with a scowl that clearly said it wasn’t funny. “Now, if you had been home when you were supposed to be,” she added with a cluck of her tongue. “You would have time to try them both on. But late as always.”
            “Blame the red cocktail dress at the office.” Natalia rolled her eyes. “Not me.”
            “Or should we blame the red cocktail?” Carlotta asked with a suspiciously raised eyebrow.
            Natalia rolled her shoulders and turned from the dresses where they hung on porcelain hooks along the wall. The best decision she’d made in this house was to remove that useless little sitting room and fashion this dressing area. A large, floor length mirror covered one wall and happy little birds flitted about the wallpaper that covered the other walls.
            Carlotta continued to frown at her, even as Natalia’s mind wandered from her dress choice. She’d never been so happy to hear the house phone ring as right then. Carlotta was a gem, one who often overstepped her bounds, but a gem nonetheless. She’d been with the Dolcini family for ages and considered herself a mother hen, a snarky overbearing mother hen, in Natalia’s opinion. Despite that, Natalia loved her.
As Carlotta answered the phone, Natalia turned back to her dresses.
            Dolcini residenza.” Carlotta paused. “Of course, of course.” Natalia turned to look at her as she held out the phone. “Signora Marquez.”
            Short silk robe swirling around her thighs, she continued to eye her dresses and took the phone from Carlotta. “Sabrina!” she said in genuine pleasure, then frowned. “Is anything wrong?”

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Sapphic Smut: Tales of Lesbian Lust Out Now! #sapphicsmut #erotica #anthology

Sapphic Smut: Tales of Lesbian Lust Out Now! #sapphicsmut #erotica #anthology


Light hearted, sexy Sapphic smut is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Lucy Felthouse with assistance from Kev ‘Mitnik’ Blisse.

From coffee shops to exotic Indian adventures to cosy cabins in France, Sapphic Smut has it all. Fun with sugar, naughty spankings, seductions by strangers, seductions by friends, cougars and even a twist on a fairy tale abound in this exciting collection of lesbian stories from erotica’s finest authors.

This delicious girl-on-girl anthology contains stories from Lucy Felthouse, Kay Jaybee, Louisa Bacio, Sallyanne Rogers, Vanessa de Sade, Tabitha Rayne and Elizabeth Coldwell.



Alana really couldn’t believe how flat Holland was. She’d been told by many people, but somehow, she still wasn’t expecting a place that made Cambridgeshire look like the Peak District. Her view from the train as she travelled from Schiphol airport to Amsterdam’s Centraal Station was unimpeded. Not so much as a hillock was visible.

And now, here she was, standing outside the station with crowds milling around her. A mixture of tourists, businesspeople and natives. She herself was a combination of two of those groups—she was here on business, but she’d deliberately extended her trip so she could spend a couple of days exploring the city. She had a day either side of her meeting, the boring part a filling to a sightseeing sandwich. Though, despite the boring tag, the meeting definitely wasn’t a bad thing, it was an appointment to cross the ts and dot the is on a very lucrative deal—certainly the trip was worthwhile.

After watching the insanity for another minute or so, she began to head away from the station, wheeling her small case along with her. Already armed with a guidebook and a decent map, she knew where she was going. Her map-reading skills were excellent, and she made the short walk to her hotel in less than twenty minutes. Anywhere else, she’d have gotten a cab, but it appeared they were a rare commodity in this city.

She’d checked in, dumped her bags and freshened up within another ten minutes, and was back on the street.

An online acquaintance had sent her a bunch of information for her trip—about the best museums, interesting things to see that might not be in guidebooks, and details on transport. It appeared that Amsterdam was unlike London, Paris and Rome, in as much as it had trams as its preferred mode of transport, rather than underground trains. Only one Metro line ran through the city, north-to-south. Everywhere else was utterly dependent on trams, bikes and being on foot.

And fuck, there were a lot of bikes. They zipped here, there and everywhere, not always staying where they were supposed to be, it seemed. The slim Dutch people atop the bikes were oblivious, just concentrating on getting where they were going.

Alana searched for the nearest tram stop, and quickly discovered she needed to be on the other side of the road to head in the right direction.

Crossing the road was a chore in itself. A dice with death. She’d thought Rome’s motorists were insane, but at least they were fairly predictable. Here, she was faced with crossing a road that held a cycle path, a tram line and a lane for cars. Shifting down the pavement, she stood at the conveniently placed crossing. It still didn’t make things much easier, but at least she could mingle in with the crowd. Traffic was much more likely to stop if it was going to hit a crowd of people than a single pedestrian. Right?

By some miracle, she reached the opposite pavement unscathed—except for her nerves, which were shot—and approached the tram stop. As if by magic, a tram arrived, and it was the correct number. Things were looking up.

After a few minutes, she realised that public transport in Amsterdam was nowhere near as easy to navigate as in the other major cities she was familiar with. There, their Tube or Metro stations always had plenty of large, unmissable signs telling you where you were. Piccadilly Circus, Anvers, Piramide. Here, it seemed you were left to your own devices. There were announcements on board the tram, but they were in Dutch—a language which she knew very little of—incredibly muffled, and pretty much drowned out by the sound of the tram’s motion and its passengers.


Monday, November 24, 2014

Interview with Laura Stone for The Bones of You @StoneyboBoney

A life-long fan girl, Laura Stone takes a leave of absence from the glamorous life of motherhood while the kids were in school, devoting her days to writing full-time. In the past she's worn the hat of actress, Master Gardener, and computer geek, but now sticks mostly to a Texas Ranger's ball cap as she raises her children. They're not fully raised, but then again, she would say that she isn’t either.

She began telling stories to her parents at the age of four. She was so successful in catching her parent's attention that her father actually dislocated his back, trying not to sit on her imaginary cat, Doka.

She lives in Texas as proof that it's not totally populated by hard-line right-wingers—and because that's where the good tamales are from.

Connect with Laura:

What is it that you loved about the main characters in your story?

I love how much they care for each other, how they show it in these little unspoken ways even though the future of their relationship is so uncertain. Gestures such as adjusting someone's tie or smoothing a shirt down, something little such as handing over a fresh napkin when you both sit down for a meal in a cafe, remembering who prefers being the little spoon.

Oliver in particular is very tuned in to the likes and needs of his lover, Seth. It makes him happy to know that he can make someone else happy. He's a courteous, mannered sort, and it fits his worldview to demonstrate affection with these types of attentions to detail toward the people in his life. I just love dear, thoughtful people like him.

I've also been called a people pleaser, and it's something I like about myself. I—like Oliver—enjoy making people who I care about smile. I love to make them feel special and important by remembering a favorite wine or restaurant, a book they've wanted to start reading but keep forgetting to pick up at the shop, sending a funny card to a friend who's having a rough time.

For Oliver, this people-pleasing that he can't help backfired in certain ways, ways that sent him on a completely different trajectory in his life than he'd planned. He couldn't please both his boyfriend and his father, well, he couldn't satisfy the legacy his father had planned for him. As a result, he ended up disappointing both of them. One of my favorite arcs in this story is how Oliver slowly awakens to realizing that it's okay to please himself.

Well, that could be taken in a decidedly naughty way, but I mean that Oliver learns that he matters. He learns that it's perfectly okay to put yourself first. That what he wants for himself, for his career and for his heart are all good, worthy things. He just has to figure out how to achieve it.

Seth is a perfect match for Oliver in many ways because Seth understands that it makes Oliver happy to think of others first. There's a scene where they're going to take a shower, and Oliver makes a point to use specific toiletries, knowing how persnickety Seth can be. Seth, having been on his own in the harsh, cut-throat world of New York theater, absolutely melts at the tiny but thoughtful gesture. He also thanks Oliver in a particular way, but you'll have to read to find out just what that is....

Seth is someone the reader slowly comes to learn about, so I can't say too much about him without giving away the story. But I can say that Seth understands Oliver better than Oliver even understands himself. He's the person who sees how Oliver is denying himself a full life because of the people-pleasing element, and is the one person who knows how to encourage Oliver to finally be self-focused in a way that is positive and truly helpful.

People who on paper clearly belong together, but for whatever reason—timing, location, school, careers, what have you—can't seem to make a relationship work are so painful to me, and so fascinating to write about. Hopefully the readers will agree!
Oliver Andrews was wholly focused on the final stages of his education at Cambridge University when a well-meaning friend up-ended his world with a simple email attachment: a clip from a U.S. morning show.
The moment he watches the video of his one-time love Seth Larsen, now a Broadway star, Oliver must begin making a series of choices that could lead him back to love—or break his heart.
The Bones of You is full of laughter and tears, with a collection of irritated Hungarians, flirtatious Irishwomen, and actors abusing Shakespeare that color Oliver and Seth’s attempts at reconciliation.

Oliver fumbled with his smartphone and pulled up his email. He tapped on the video link in Gus's message and handed the phone over. It wasn't easy to hear over the din of the crowd, but she'd get the idea well enough. “Wait for the hosts to stop talking. That's him.”
Moira held the phone close, her head cocked to pick up the sound over the bar's noise. Oliver watched her face, not the video. Her eyes widened as Seth began to sing, and after a moment she was smiling, entranced.
“Yeah, he has a tendency to do that to people,” Oliver said softly, taking a long drink.                      
“Hmm?” She could barely tear her eyes away from the performance to respond.         
He toyed with the coaster under his beer as she finished watching the clip. She exhaled loudly and handed him back his phone. “You knew this bloke?”                  
“Knew him? Um, intimately. That's rude; I'm sorry.”
She cackled. “And here I was wondering if you were a monk.”

Laura will be awarding A $25 Interlude Press GC to one randomly drawn winner and digital copies of THE BONES OF YOU to ten randomly winners via Rafflecopter during the tour 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thursday, November 20, 2014

#BookBlast Red and Her Big Bad Dom by @SydneyStClaire

Sydney St. Claire is the pseudonym of Susan Edwards, author of 14 Historical Native American/Western/Paranormal romances and the author of the popular “White” Series.

Sydney loves writing and sharing stories of love, happiness and dreams come true with her readers. She credits her mother for her writing success.  Encouraged to read as a child, she always preferred happy endings which meant romances were her favorite genre.  Sydney takes her readers into the world of erotica romance where her characters come together in explosive passion as they solve life’s problems and find true love along with the best sex our hero and heroine have ever experienced.

Sydney’s office is quite crowded with three dogs at her feet and five cats to keep her company while she writes. Three cats always insist on beds on her desk, barely leaving enough room for her monitor and keyboard. Life gets fun when all five insist on supervising…

When not writing, she enjoys crafts of all sorts including quilting, sewing, cross-stitch and knitting. She and her husband of 30 + years are avid gardeners. He takes care of the veggies, and Susan is in charge of the ‘pretties’. Her medicine wheel garden is in a contact state of war: flowers vs. weeds. Sadly, right now the weeds are wining…

While writing, she listens to a wide variety of music. Her current favorites are Blackmore’s Night and David Lanz.

Contact Links 


Wealthy computer genius Graham Winters is in love with a woman who won’t join him for a stingy cup of coffee. How can he prove he’s nothing like her jerk of an ex if she won’t give him a chance? Then he spots her at a BDSM club and devises a plan. During the day, he’s “that damn geek.” At night, he’s the masked Dom known as The Wolf.

When it comes to her love life, Lucy Sanchez has one rule—no geeks. Not even rich, good looking geeks. She’s attracted to Graham but rules are rules. Besides, she has her wolf, the mysterious Dom who makes her blood sing. Then she’s invited to a fairytale event at Pleasure Manor and this Little Red Riding Hood plans to enjoy every delicious moment with her big, bad Dom.

Buy Links:

“Red Riding Hood. Your wolf awaits.”

Lucy stepped forward as did her wolf. He pointed to the ground. Lucy knelt, assuming a submissive posture. Her Dom circled her several times, then stopped in front of her.

He snapped his fingers. “Follow me. The woods await.”

His deep, husky voice with just a hint of an accent vibrated through her, warming her belly and heating her core. It amazed her that his voice alone made her throb. She stood, keeping her head bent, her gaze to the ground. When he whipped around to lead the way, she almost stumbled. Not only was his crotch cut out but so was the seat of his pants.

She stared at the G-string. The black set off his nicely tanned buttocks and was more temptation than she could resist. As soon as they exited through a side door into the garden, she cupped his cheeks, finding the flesh warm and firm. The man most definitely worked out.

He stopped suddenly, eyes narrowed to slits behind his mask. “Did I give you permission to touch?”

Head bowed meekly, Lucy licked her lips. “No, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir. I couldn’t resist. Guess you’ll have to punish me. Sir.”

“Ah, my lovely little sub wants to be punished?”
Lucy shivered. “Oh, yes, Sir. I need to be punished.”

The author will award a Once Upon a Dom Tote Bag: Tote Bag, Mug, Cap and Misc. goodies (US Only - Int'l winners will have a GC substitute) to a randomly drawn winner during the tour.

 a Rafflecopter giveaway