Archive for the ‘Lexxie Couper’ Category
Not the Emerald City Oz, but the Down Under Oz. Traditionally, Australia doesn’t celebrate Halloween but by nature, we Aussies aren’t that much into tradition (unless it involves the game of cricket), which means Halloween in Australia is gaining momentum. Big time.
Last year, the Couper house bought not one but TWO pumpkins and carved them into spooky faces. Well, one Jack Skellington face and one demon-suffering-from-constipation face. While we still have a way to go with our Halloween-celebrating techinique, what we lack in experience we make up for in enthusiasm.
This year the Couper house will be carving FOUR pumpkins (FYI: we Aussies tend to use pumpkins to make scones and soup, not scary nighttime lights but then we really do do things differently down here *grin*). Those four pumpkins are going to become Dark Vader (The Husband’s choice), Ooogie Boogie (my choice), Professor Snape (my none-year old daughter, Peanut’s choice) and a girl ghost (my six-year old daughter, the Demon Princess’s choice). Last year we also dressed up and handed out lollies (what we call candy down here). This year, the lolly-distribution will be taking a back seat to Thor 2, which opens here on October 31st).
But seriously, if I have to chose between dressing up like the Wicked Witch of Oz or drooling at Chris Hemsworth for two and a half hours, I’m afraid Halloween loses out. Sorry, spooks and ghouls
Here’s a snippet from one of my first erotic horror books, Timeless Wrath. To win both it and it’s follow-up, Endless Lust, read the snippet below and tell me your favourite line.
Beatrice “Ricki” Sullivan is every man’s fantasy.
Drop-dead gorgeous, she exudes a sensuality none can ignore. More than just a stunning face and body, she’s intelligent, kind, gentle…and madly, inexplicably in love with Evron, a man she’s known mere hours.
Evron McKenzie is troubled, struggling with undeniable anger that scorches through his veins. And the irrational feeling he is someone else, something more. Someone rich, powerful…someone to fear. But in Ricki’s arms, Evron may have finally found his place in the world. At last he is at peace.
So who is the seductive redhead who invades Evron’s dreams? Why does she urge him to touch a mysterious sculpture—a sculpture that seems to radiate death and sin? How can she make him hornier than he’s ever been in his life with just a look, and at the same time turn his anger into bloody, murderous rage? And, more frighteningly, why can’t he resist her?
Reader Advisory: Sex and violence abound in this terrifically intense tale; big-girl pants definitely required.
Evron moved, the pull in his soul guiding him up the stairs.
The distant streetlights outside his home cast a dull yellow glow through the windows, long shadows leaping up the walls of the hallway beside him as he strode past his bedroom, heading for the loft stairs. His studio filled the small third floor—an easel, drawing board, his Mac, printer, an old over-stuffed lounge and a bar fridge full of bottled water.
And now, something else. Something he could feel in his blood.
Something new. Yet something very, very old.
He took the steps two at a time, the voice in his head whispering words he didn’t understand. The closer he came the more pervasive it became. Until, at the studio door, the whispers were screams of ecstatic triumph. INJA AL, N!
Hand steady, heart hammering, Evron closed his fingers around the doorknob, the metal like molten iron under his flesh. Unbearable pain singed his palm, lashed up his arm, but he could not pull away. How could he? When the voice commanded him to come, come, come here NOW!
With the acrid smell of burning flesh stinging his sinuses, he turned the knob and entered his studio.
His work area no longer existed. Where once sat a desk, computer and drawing board now hung a sculpture. A sculpture of a naked woman unlike any he’d ever seen.
At least as tall as himself, it hung from a beam of twisted wood spearing the breadth of the attic ceiling. Four metal chains, thick and undeniably old, knotted around the beam in the centre of its width, each length seemingly covered in a grimy filth that made him think of the bars in the Kings Cross holding cell.
He stared, unable to comprehend what his eyes told him to be true.
A sculpture. A fucking great big sculpture hung from his ceiling. As if some mad artist had set up an installation piece in his studio. A sculpture of a naked woman carved from blood-red marble suspended above the floor by the four metal chains. A sculpture of a naked woman crisscrossed by shining black chains wider than his wrist, each one binding her sublime body into a position of imprisoned, sexual subjugation, her arms behind her back, her wrists crossed over each other and chained to her ankles, her back bowed to thrust her full, high breasts forward. A sculpture of a woman created by the artist to be a creature of sexual slavery, her eyes closed, her lips parted wider, her legs spread wide so as to let one thick chain snaking her right thigh sink into the perfectly formed folds of her sex.
A sculpture that seemed to eat up the warmth of the room, leaving him chilled and shivering, and yet at the same time coated in a sweat that felt like rivulets of boiling water.
His throat squeezed tight, his mouth grew dry. His balls grew heavy. “Holy fuck!”
A low and soulless chuckle filled his head. There is nothing holy about me, Custodian.
A wave of blistering heat smashed over him, as if someone had thrown open the door to a furnace. Or the gates of Hell. He staggered backward, ass colliding with the door he’d just stepped through. Its edge rammed against his tailbone, black stars of agony exploding in his head even as his feet lost their battle with stability and he fell to the floor. The wooden floorboards slammed against his ass cheeks like bands of molten iron, flooding his body with new pain.
Yet Evron didn’t take any notice.
Because at the very moment his butt hit the floor, a woman appeared. The woman. As if somehow stepping from the sculpture itself. Materializing from the blood-red marble in the same way smoke is born from fire.
Evron’s mouth worked but no sound came out. He gaped up at her, heart thumping so savagely he felt the bones of his breastplate would splinter any moment now.
The woman stepped closer, eyes blacker than pitch fixed on him. Salaam, Custodian.
The words sounded in his head, a timbre so deep every hair on his body trembled. He knew it came from her, yet her lips—the colour of fresh blood—didn’t move.
He tried to swallow but his throat seemed coated in dust. A deafening beat hammered in his ears and it was only when he planted his hands to them he realized it was his own frantic pulse. Holy shit! What the hell…?
The woman approached, long legs carrying her across the short distance with a serpentine grace that made his skin crawl. Hair the colour of hellfire tumbled from her head and over her shoulders in a wild mane, drawing his stunned gaze from her shining, ink-black eyes to a voluptuously luscious body so perfect in creation Evron’s chest constricted in hot pain. God, who was this woman? And why was she familiar?
Not God, Custodian. Although He does know me. That deep, soulless chuckle sounded in his head again as black, pupil-free eyes caressed him. I must say, her voice murmured in his head, He is never as happy to see me as you are now though.
A feathering sensation caressed Evron’s stomach, as if hot fingers brushed his skin and he looked down, seeing nothing but his naked torso and open jeans, his cock jutting from his unzipped fly in an erection that defied physical possibility.
Yes. The word whispered through his shell-shocked mind, glee turning it to a low purr. This is more like it.
A breath of blistering heat fanned his cock, and—as Evron lay sprawled against the door, incapable of moving, stunned beyond the capacity of rational thought—a pair of invisible lips closed around its throbbing length and began to suck.
He snapped into a rigid arc, his eyes slamming shut, a sharp hiss passing his clenched teeth. Formless fingers raked over his splayed thighs, tearing lines into his flesh despite the material of his jeans, scoring a path to balls already ready to explode. Snaring their swollen shape in a grip neither gentle nor kind. “Jesus!” Evron cried, pleasure tearing through his limbs.
The son of the carpenter? The woman’s voice rolled through his fevered mind even as her unseen tongue rolled around his pulsating cock. He is not here. But if you prefer the male form…
A shimmer flashed behind Evron’s clenched eyelids, a blurring of form and colour, and an image of a man filled his head. Michelangelo’s David—the embodiment of human perfection—smiled at him, lifting his right hand to suck on the extended middle finger as he gripped his own turgid cock with his left.
A surge of lust—hot and greedy—roared through Evron and a strangled groan burst from his lips.
The vaporous mouth gobbling on his shaft plunged deeper down his length. The throaty chuckle he was already beginning to dread echoed in his mind. Interesting. It seems Darius’ tastes run strong in your blood. A force of pressure slid along the sweating space between his balls and his ass. Something that felt like a finger of liquid fire pressed on the tightly puckered hole. Pressing, pressing…in.
Exquisite pain flooded through Evron. He slammed his bunched fists against the wall. Once. Twice. Waves of raw pleasure ricocheted through him, from cock to balls to ass and back to cock again. He stamped his heel on the floor, teeth clenched. “Oh God. Oh God!”
So the cunt in your bed is just a pretence.
An image of the sleeping Ricki smashed into Evron’s head, shattering the image of Michelangelo’s David masturbating. Utterly. With a snarl of contempt, he sprang to his feet, the pressure on his cock and ass disappearing immediately. “Fuck you!” He bit back a low growl, glaring at the woman from the sculpture. She still stood beside the sculpture, as if she hadn’t moved toward him at all, her fingertips stroking one of the thick chains suspended from the ceiling, her eyes shimmering black flames.
One fiery-red eyebrow arched and her mouth twitched. Temper, temper.
“Who the fuck are you?” He bared his teeth in a snarl of disgust, fury razing the lingering filaments of pleasure in his groin. “And what the fuck is going on?”
The woman’s blood-red lips curled in a slow smile, pointed fangs glinting in the dim light of the attic. I am Shahla, Evron McKenzie. I am the sculpture. I am wrath. I am the Daemon Form.” She came closer without a step, pitiless eyes boring into his mind, her heat wrapping around him like the arms of a lover. “And,” she said aloud, her voice like a dying breath, “I am yours.”
Can The Villain Really Be The Hero?
Of late, I’ve been a little obsessed with Megamind. Now here’s the thing about Megamind – he’s the bad guy. He’s a criminal genius determined to bring chaos and villainy to the world. Megamind is in constant battle with the hero of Metro City, Metro Man. Metro Man is the archetype hero – broad-chested, wide-shouldered, chiseled-jawed with an ego to match. Megamind is hell-bent on ridding Metro City of Metro Man and to this end, constantly kidnaps the city’s star reporter, Roxanne Ritchi (yeah, I know, it doesn’t make much sense but then, neither did Lex Luthor’s inclusion of Lois Lane in all his dastardly plans). I won’t give away the why and how of the end (for those that haven’t seen it) but Megamind become the hero and gets the girl. The villain no more.
Another villain I am totally enamored with who balances on the line of heroism is Dr. Horrible. Dr. Horrible is a wannabe villain who recognizes the world is a mess. Of course, he just wants to rule it, but it’s only because the status is NOT quo (and I just crammed as many quotes in those three sentences as I could). The thing about Dr. Horrible is he is basically a good guy with good guy intentions and a good-guy crush on a sweet girl, but (and thar be ***spoilers*** here) the actions of the hero—one Captain Hammer (“the hammer is my penis”)—pushes him to a place so dark he becomes the villain he thought he was. But by the end of Dr. Horrible’s Sing-A-Long Blog I can’t help but wonder if Dr. Horrible IS the hero: his bitter-sweet transformation highlights the superficial nature of society.
Professor Snape (Harry Potter’s universe) is a perfect example of a villain whose actions define him—eventually—as a hero. I won’t expand on Snape because to do so would ruin the story for those that haven’t read the books (and I’m sure there are at least a twelve people out there who haven’t read J.K. Rowling’s series yet), but the Professor is a mysterious, dark sometimes malevolent man with an ambiguous goal and equally ambiguous motives.
Villains quite often walk the tight-rope of heroisms and it is this tenuous walk that makes a large number of them so damn sexy. We never know where their actions are going to take them—we never know what they will do. They may truly be trying to bring about the end of the world, but they may just decide to leave the world alone because the girl of their dreams longs for a better place. They may however, decide to create utter anarchy when said girl misses a coffee date. You just never know.
I’ve written my fair share of villains. In fact, I once had a reviewer write, “The villain was, as always, reprehensible. Ms. Couper writes slime quite well.” Hee, I’m not sure what it says about my psyche that I’m proud of that snippet. But it does lead me to my latest villain, a bad boy I’m very very proud of: Asmodeus.
Asmodeus is very much a villain. There is little to redeem him. He is the Daemon of Lust and as such wields his power with an arrogant, charismatic charm that is capable of destroying a human’s life while giving them the most intense, never-ending orgasm of that life. Asmodeus however, has a wit sharper than a knife and a killer smile and if, one day, he truly finds the woman of his dreams (as twisted and rapacious as they may seem) he will no doubt show the worlds of man and daemon-kind alike just how damn heroic he can be. I don’t know whether that’s a good thing…or a scary thing.
Seven Deadly Daemons, Book Two
Cate Sinclair is ruled by lust. Day and night, awake and dreaming, an unseen force plies her with pleasure to the point of pain. Each orgasm wrenched from her exhausted body stealing her energy, her very essence, until insanity seems a sweet relief.
When Eamon enters her life, Cate’s uncertain if the gorgeous, enigmatic man is her salvation…or the cause of her worst nightmares.
Reader Advisory: Our heroine endures endless amounts of forced seduction. But how do you fight advances from an enemy you can’t see?
“Now now, Xander,” a new voice uttered, smoother than melting ice—and just as cold. “Surely you’re not so weak you’ll let a mere Muse influence you?”
Eamon stiffened, his head swiveling toward the speaker. A silent curse fell from his lips, his eyes flaring golden heat, and he let Xander fall to a heap on the floor. “The Daemon Form of Lust decides to make an appearance, does he?”
Cate’s gaze was riveted on the new arrival and her stomach knotted. The man stood beside Xander’s easel, his hand playing on the canvas, long, talon-tipped fingers stroking its edge with slow caresses. A lover’s touch, intimately gentle and knowing.
Even through the gray fog of her pain, she couldn’t miss the similarity. The Lust Daemon was almost a carbon copy of Eamon.
The name whispered through the deep reaches of her mind and with each syllable, her sex constricted. Consuming her with a horrific hunger unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
Asmodeus. The creature who’d given Xander power over her body.
Hate filled her. Hate and (God save me) desperate carnal need. She was going to kill him. She was going to—
She threw herself at the Lust Daemon, a raw cry erupting from her throat.
“Cate, no!” Eamon yelled, his voice like cracking thunder.
It was too late. Her body slammed into Asmodeus, her shoulder driving into his hard gut.
And the second her body touched his, a ravenous lust surged through her, mind, body and soul. She screamed, her sex constricting with such force her whole body shuddered.
God, she wanted to fuck. And be fucked.
Sharp claws raked at her back, her shoulder. Long fingers knotted in her hair, yanking her head backward until she was staring up at Eamon’s smirking double. His lips curled, his eyes flashing every shade of red. “Oh she’s a responsive one, isn’t she?”
“Let her go.” Eamon’s growl stroked all of Cate’s senses, the menace in his voice making her heart thump harder and the dark lust possessing her vanish.
Asmodeus laughed, a smug, confident chortle. “Don’t think so, Muse. Her pleasure does belong to me, after all.” And with that, Cate’s body was once more on the edge of orgasm. Instantly. Painfully.
Lexxie’s not a deviant. She just has a deviant’s imagination and a desire to entertain readers with her words. Add the two together and you get darkly erotic romances with a twist of horror, sci-fi and the paranormal!
When she’s not submerged in the worlds she creates, Lexxie’s life revolves around her family: a husband who thinks she’s insane, a pony-sized mutt who thinks he’s a lap dog, and her daughters, who both utterly captured her heart and changed her life forever.
Living in Australia makes it a bit tricky for Lexxie to pop by for coffee, but she still loves to chat! Contact her by email or find her at her website or her blog (http://lexxiecouper.com).
Or, How A Sci-fi Author Dared To Move Beyond The Safe
I started my professional writing life with erotic sci-fi. I grew up watching Dr Who and Star Trek (and my first crush was on Han Solo) so naturally when I decided to write an erotic romance what better sub-genre to explore than sci-fi. Actually, it was?t even as planned as that. I opened a new Word doc and began writing with no real idea of what was going to come out of my brain. Pretty much all my books are written this way, which can be surprisingly fun or frustratingly annoying. My first ever erotic tale was definitely sci-fi.?Shifting Lust is still my best seller at Changeling Press and I have to say, the hero?a brooding, menacing bounty hunter called Raiven a?Tor still has a very special place in my heart.
After that came more sci-fi with elements of paranormal. Then came paranormal all by itself (Savage Retribution,Captive Heat,?Death, The Vamp and His Brother to name a few). Then I went back to visit sci-fi again, this time with fantasy elements (the infamous?The Sun Sword is that book, which only recently came out in print.) followed by some more sci-fi, this time with a foursome unlike any other (Spaceport: R&R). Never in amongst all that did I dream I would ever write a contemporary erotic rom-com. But I did.
Mid 2009,?Mari Carr asked me to be a part of Ellora?s Cave?Tempt the Cougarseries, a strictly non-paranormal, non-sci-fi series. I was as nervous as all hell, but love Mari sooo damn much I couldn?t say no.?Copping A Feel was released August last year and, according to my EC editor (the most fabulous Kelli Collins) it was the best thing I?d ever subbed to her. ?Freaking hilarious? I think was the words she used. Of course, me being me, I didn?t believe her and before I knew it, I was submerged again in the paranormal worlds where wild horny sex happens between non-humans and the fate of the world hangs in the balance (Savage Transformation and Endless Lust).?Savage Transformation was released last September and Endless Lust will be coming soon from Ellora?s Cave. But somewhere in amongst all that timeline, my Samhain Editor, (the most wonderful Heidi Moore) threw down a challenge. Write her a m?nage contemporary erotic romance. And do it in 10 days.
So, I did. I opened a new Word doc, put my fingers on the keys and waited. And a few minutes later I wrote this line?
Joseph Hudson tossed his snowboard aside, threw his goggles over his shoulder and swung a fist at his best mate.
Nine days later, I subbed?Triple Dare, a 25,000 word m/f/m erotic rom-com to Heidi. She loved it. More than loved it. She demanded a sequel.
Triple Dare has become for me the most important release (and the most important dare) of my life. If I hadn?t the courage to say, yeah, I can be funny, I can be normal, I can do contemporary, I never would have written it and, in turn, never discovered a side of my writer?s brain that I really like visiting. A lot.
Which makes me think, how many of us out there are just waiting for someone to say to them?c?mon, I dare you to do it?
Two men, one woman, one momentous dare.
A Red Hot Winter story.
Serious and determined, Joseph Hudson isn?t Australia?s businessman of the year for nothing. So now he?s asking himself, how did he get lost on the side of a mountain in the Colorado Rockies?in the middle of winter?with night fast approaching? Three simple words. I dare you.
Fear isn?t in Rob Thorton?s vocabulary. Life is for the taking, and Rob uses both hands. Challenging his best mate to take an impromptu snowboarding trip to the U.S. is just the latest in a lifetime of dares. Besides, he has an ulterior motive for the trip. And a plan?
Park Ranger Anna McCarthy knows what trouble looks like, and it?s written all over the two Aussies she first encounters in the ski lodge. Instinct has her following them onto the mountain, and sure enough, they end up needing her winter survival expertise. But not even her skills can stop her body from responding to the sexy muscles she finds beneath their ski suits.
Stuck in a remote cabin until the storm passes, the temperatures rise until all bets are off. And a double dare turns into a triple threat?to their hearts.
Warning: Contains lots of scorching boy on girl on boy action, a heroine who knows what she wants and two sexy-arsed Australian heroes to really work up a sweat over. Oh, and a soul-deep love story with a revelation that may make you cry.
Joseph crossed the cabin floor in three strides and scooped her off her feet before she could utter a squeal of shocked delight. He held her against his chest, his arms under her knees and back, his nostrils flaring, his stare holding hers captive. ?Right about here.?
He kissed her. Hard. Brutal. His tongue lashing at her lips, her teeth, with a ravenous aggression she reveled in.
?And here,? Rob stated as he fisted a hand in her hair and tore her lips from Joseph?s, crushing her mouth with his.
His kiss was equally forceful but far more playful, and her head spun at the contradiction of one barely contained with power, the other almost teasing. Both however, made her pussy weep with moisture. She whimpered and curled her arms around Joseph?s neck as his lips began to scorch a line up the column of her neck.
?You are so fucking beautiful,? he ground out in her ear.
?Beautiful,? Rob echoed, pulling his lips from hers to taste her chin, her jaw.
Joseph kissed her again, nipping at her bottom lip with a series of bites that grew harder and more uncontrolled with each one. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, exploring its well with increasing fever.
?There?s no bed big enough for this,? Rob spoke, skimming a hand down her back and over the curve of her ass. His fingers stopped at the folds of her pussy, exposed to his touch by her position in Joseph?s arms, ?and the floor?s a might cold, so we?re going to have to worship your body standing up.?
His statement sent a shard of wanton excitement into Anna?s sex and she felt her juices wet Rob?s fingers. Fingers he slowly, deliberately slid into her folds. Two at once, wriggling them until he couldn?t penetrate her any deeper.
She sucked in a breath through her nose, the scent of her pleasure filling her body, driving her faster to an unexpected orgasm.
Her pussy clamped shut on Rob?s fingers, constricting on them, squeezing them in fast, powerful pulses.
?Oh, yes,? Rob scissored his fingers inside her sex, plunged them in and out and wriggled them some more, ?that?s my girl. Come for me. I want you so fucking wet I could drown in your cream.?
Joseph growled against Anna?s lips at his friend?s words, hauling her closer to his chest as he sucked her tongue into his mouth.
?She?s so wet for us, Hudo.? Rob continued to fuck her pussy with his fingers. ?So very, very wet.?
Joseph broke the kiss and stared into her face. ?I want her wetter.?
Rob chuckled, a low, dirty laugh. ?No worries, mate.?
He slapped her ass. A swift, sharp slap that made her cry out in surprise.
Stinging heat branded her ass cheek, but before the pain could register in Anna?s mind, Joseph pressed his lips to her temple. ?Do you want him to kiss it better??
She nodded, her breath hitching in her throat.
She sensed Rob move beside her, his hand sliding over her butt, caressing the spot he?d smacked until it wasn?t his palm on her skin but his lips.
And then, his lips weren?t on her ass cheek but on her folds, his tongue flicking at her clit, his fingers delving into her slit.
?Does that feel good?? Joseph whispered, his stare holding her still in his arms.
?Yes,? she panted. ?Yes.?
?I want you so wet there?ll be very little pain when Rob enters your arse.?
Her heart slammed into her throat, her rock-hard nipples aching. She gazed into his eyes, knowing she should feel something other than absolute trust and blissful rapture. She didn?t.
Rob?s tongue rolled over her clit, already swollen from her last orgasm, and she hissed in a gasp.
?I can?t hold on much longer, Anna.? Raw tension wrought Joseph?s statement into a strangled groan. ?My dick is so hard and I want to sink it into your pussy so much.?
?Then do it,? she rasped. ?Do it. Please.?
He shook his head. ?Not yet. Not until you are ready for both of us.?
As if Rob knew exactly what Joseph wanted, he placed his hands on her ass cheeks and spread them apart, dragging his tongue from her pussy to her anus. Smearing her hole with his saliva and her cream.
Triple Dare is now available at?http://www.mybookstoreandmore.com/triple-dare-p-6205.html and Amazon Kindle at http://www.amazon.com/Triple-Dare-Winter-Story-ebook/dp/B004HILZDW
Okay, so this is me, Darci-Rae Whitlam, a mild-mannered albeit somewhat quirky high school English teacher from Newcastle, Australia who only recently became a cougar. Never thought I’d grow fur and a tail, but I have to admit, they suit me.
How did I transform from a forty year old woman into a sexual creature who makes love every night to a man more than ten years younger than her? A woman with a stuffy, conservative, famous writer for an older sister and an even more famous literary icon for a father? A woman who quite cheerfully thumbed her nose at society in just about every aspect of her life except for the one that really counted – affairs of the heart? Ohh, that really is a tale to tell. And the equally quirky erotic romance author, Lexxie Couper told it very well (check out her account of how I became the fastest cougar of the Tempt The Cougar members in her rather naughty book, Copping A Feel. Yep, that’s me on the cover…lol)
So, what do you want to know about me? I should start by saying one of my very good friends is a New Yorker with attitude called Rachel Bridge. I’ve been friends with Rachel for so long I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t giving me a hard time in that sexy accent of hers. One day I was chatting with her via Skype (gotta love that thing, don’t you?) when I let it slip how damn sexy I thought the new but young PE teacher was (that’s Phys. Ed. teacher for you non Aussies). Rachel didn’t say anything about the age difference and by the end of the conversation I’d forgotten I’d even mentioned it. Rachel of course, hadn’t.
Two days later, I received an email from her with an invitation to join Tempt the Cougar (www.TempttheCougar.com)?Apparently and unbeknownst to me, Rachel had been through her own transformation from woman to sexual feline. She was a cougar and threw down the challenge to me. Find a young, hot stud and “cougarize” myself. Of course, I thought she was a lunatic. Remember I mentioned my older sister? The stuffy, conservative famous one? Yeah, well, for reasons I can’t really explain, that sister of mine had a habit of being in my mental ear all the time about the way I behaved. Vivian would be horrified, mortified and any other negative “ied” you can think of if I had a relationship with a younger man. Truly. And the Australian newspapers would join in her horror and the headlines would begin. I was going to say no, I really was, but then, Rachel rang me (it was 3am in the US) and before I knew it, I’d not only joined the blog but accepted her challenge – find a younger man and live out a fantasy I’ve long denied.
Five minutes later, that’s kinda what I did.
At this point I should point out I was in the middle of organising a trip to RomantiCon in the US. Have you been? A convention for readers and writers of erotic romance, RomantiCon was my Mecca (and the first time I would actually get to meet Rachel in person). It was an innocent but stupid click on the internet that introduced me to my “cub”. Or maybe it was fate? Or the cyber gods? Anyway, to travel to the US Aussies need a US visa waiver. We do this online at a very official site run by the US government. Of course, me being me, arranged my visa waiver at a fraudulent site, a site set up to specifically steal people’s identity. I was so excited about the convention I didn’t realise I’d become the victim of identity theft until a very fine, very sexy, very cute detective from Sydney’s Cyber-Crime unit turned up on my doorstep. Detective Jarrod St James thought I was the criminal. I thought he was gorgeous. There was some misunderstandings, some not so subtle flirting, a discussion about copulating teddy bears and seven hours later, I wrote my second blog for Tempt the Cougar, proclaiming challenge very successfully met. Four hours after that I had the best breakfast ever cooked by the sexiest Detective ever. My detective. He still makes me breakfast every day since and he’s still as sexy as ever. Yes, life is good for Ms Whitlam, it truly is
There’s something to be said for accepting challenges in life.
(If you’re still with me after all that rambling, here’s an excerpt from Lexxie Couper’s Copping A Feel. I’d like to say she exaggerated the situation a little for laughs, but I can’t. It’s pretty much exactly how it happened. Including the prank phone call from one of my students. That boy has been on permanent detention since *grin*)
A standalone title in the Cougar Challenge series.
Darci-Rae Whitlam doesn?t know which is more disturbing, receiving scads of obscene phone calls?or getting so turned-on by said phone calls. Then there?s the email from her American friend, Rachel, taunting Darci with something called a Cougar Challenge. Just the thought of seducing a younger man is enough to permanently soak her knickers. No wonder her ever-disapproving sister thinks she?s oversexed!
Cybercrime Detective Jarrod St. James is investigating a case of stolen identity. He quickly learns the fiery redhead claiming to be Darci-Rae Whitlam is the real deal (his shoulder trapped in the jaws of her gargantuan dog might have sped that decision along). He really should go back to Sydney, continue tracking the imposter who?s operating a phone-sex business in Darci?s name?but the woman proves too tempting. Job be damned, he has to have her. The fact she?s got a titillating challenge to complete only helps his case.
Darci just may be the fastest cougar to snag her cub yet. Being the victim of a crime has never been more fun!
An Excerpt From: COPPING A FEEL
Copyright ? LEXXIE COUPER, 2010
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
Pursuing a case of identity theft beyond the computer lab was exciting?but wasn?t meant to end up in a quiet street in coastal?Newcastle. What kind of criminal mastermind lived in a neat little two-story surrounded by gum trees, wattle and tree ferns? With a 1996 Volvo in the driveway? A Volvo wearing a ?Public Education. It?s Our Future? bumper sticker, no less?
Jarrod breathed another drawn-out sigh. Maybe he?d been too long in front of a computer after all. This couldn?t be right. This felt wrong.
?But this?is the only address for someone claiming to be?Darci-Rae Whitlam,? he muttered, scanning the front windows, the gauzy curtains and wide awnings concealing the interior from his inspection. ?And it?was someone claiming to be?Darci-Rae Whitlam who spoke to you on the phone a mere three hours ago.?
With alarming ease, his cock twitched at the memory. The woman?whoever she really was?had the most amazing voice. A voice created to send a man wild. She?d said very little that could condemn her. Asked a very husky question about what he would do with his tongue after he brought her to orgasm with his fingers, wondered if he had staying power,?pondered?what it would be like to be tied up by him. But in that voice of hers, like smoke and velvet playing in the back of her throat?it was enough to set his groin on rock-hard alert and his pulse quickening beyond fast.
Is that the real reason you?re here? ?Cause a possible crook got you horny with just her voice?
For the third time he let out a protracted sigh, this one tainted with deprecating disgust. Fuck, what was he doing?
?Catching a criminal, Detective.? His growled whisper rumbled deep in his chest. ?That?s it. Catching a criminal who?s stolen the real Ms. Whitlam?s life?and making her pay.?
He forced away the sensation of stirring steel in his cock, narrowed his stare on the front door of the house and crossed the front yard, the delicate perfume of the native violet ambling through the flowerbeds wafting into each breath he took.
Climbing the five steps leading to the front porch on silent feet, he unclipped the holster on his?Glock, planted his feet slightly apart, squared his shoulders and raised his hand to knock on the door. Ready to take on whatever came?
The door flung open and a goddess with brilliant green eyes and wild, fiery-red hair smacked straight into him.
Followed immediately by a bear cleverly disguised as a dog. A?growling dog.
He stumbled back a step, grabbing the goddess?s upper arms even as the bear?err, dog?slammed two paws roughly the size of the Opera House against his chest.
?Eep!? the goddess cried, and Jarrod?s balls prickled in instant interest as the sexiest voice he?d ever heard caressed his ears for the second time that day.
Still struggling under the dog?s massive force, he tightened his grip on her arms, his fingers telling him exactly what his mind had already decided. The goddess was smooth, warm and firm to the touch. Sex and sin and toned feminine strength in one incredible package. He could feel her triceps flex and coil beneath his hands, a realization that made his balls not just prickle with interest but rise up and grow heavy.
Fuck, he was in trouble.
The dog shoved him, teeth bared, muzzle wrinkled, and before his stupefied brain could process the situation, he fell backward, stumbling down the front porch steps, dog and goddess joining him?reluctantly, by the sounds of the dog?s snarls and the goddess? surprised shout?in a very undignified free fall.
The ground hit his ass, or more to the point, his ass hit the ground, at the exact moment the dog decided snarling just wouldn?t cut it anymore and the goddess decided she needed to slam into him with her entire weight. Wicked teeth latched onto his shoulder just as a slender, curved knee rammed into his crotch, followed by a palm heel to the solar plexus.
Jarrod?s groin and chest exploded in black stars of pain. He let out a shout that sounded like a croak, thanks in part to the strangled pain in his chest and the dog?s canines threateningly latched to his shoulder.
Yep, definitely been in front of a computer for too long, Jarrod.
The surreal thought flittered through his reeling mind, seconds before another palm heel struck him in the jaw.
?Let go of me, dickhead,? the husky voice growled, a dangerous caress. ?Or I?ll let my dog eat you.?
?Wait, wait,?wait!? Jarrod choked out, struggling under the massive dog?s rather insistent attack. Thank God for his thick cotton shirt, otherwise his shoulder would look as if it?d been through a cheese grater. He gripped the goddess?s arms tighter still, the base?male part of his mind pointing out she reclined full stretch atop him now,?her?firm softness separated from his body by nothing more than two layers of clothing and a seriously protective mutt.
The thought sent a surge of eager blood through his veins, flooding his already semi-hard dick with wildly inappropriate intent. Unable to do anything else, Jarrod flipped the goddess and her hellhound, dislodging the dog?s teeth in the process, and straddled them both. ?Wait!? he panted, staring down into eyes the color of raw emeralds. With an abrupt shift in position, he pressed his knee?gently but forcefully?on the dog?s neck, pinning the animal to the ground so the bloody thing couldn?t take any more bites out of his hide, and then grabbed the goddess?s wrists and pinned them to the ground beside her head.
?Get off me!? she snarled through clenched teeth, squirming beneath him. ?Who the hell are you? Get off me, you prick.?
She bucked again and Jarrod bit back a groan. With all her thrashing and writhing, there was no way she would have missed the growing bulge in his jeans. Damn it, his bloody erection kept poking her in the belly every time she moved, contained by his jeans or not.
Way too long in front of a computer, Jarrod. Way too long.
?Wait,? he snapped one last time, and for a dizzying moment he wondered what the hell had happened to his vocabulary. Maybe he?d left it on the front porch along with his pride and professionalism.
Don?t worry I?m not going to do massive spoilers. I can?t do that to my friends on the West Coast or in Australia who haven?t seen it yet. Normally I don?t really blog about TV shows. I just say this is what I?m watching and leave it at that. But this time I wanted to do something. I know people have been wondering why Chuck and not say Law and Order or Heroes? Honestly I don?t know. What I do know is that I?m grateful to NBC for keeping the show alive (Pleeeaaassse give us a whole 22 episodes season, pleeeeaaassseee).
To be honest I didn’t watch in the beginning. Too many freakin shows on at the same for me to watch. But I became curious after reading my friend Chris/Crystal Green’s Chuck recaps (her show recaps rock!) on her blog. Then I saw one episode and was hooked. I had to see them all.?Chuck isn?t a show that many will get. It?s not as complicated as Lost or as flashy as 24. It didn?t get lost in its mythos like Heroes did. At the core of the show, at it?s heart, the show is about Chuck and those that Chuck loves. His family. He may not be an uber spy like Bryce Larkin (Dear God, Matt Boomer is gorgeous) nor is he as suave as James Bond. He does bumble and fumble but he means well. In his heart of hearts he is a good guy, a sweet guy. He may not be your first choice but he is the guy who will go over to your house with your fav ice cream and a playlist of all your favorite songs if you?ve had a hell of a day. He?s the guy who will be there for you no matter what.
Chuck is the type of guy who will do the right thing no matter how much it hurts him. He?s the guy who will sacrifice it all for those that he loves even if it means risking his life. He is all about family: Ellie, Awesome, Morgan, Sarah and Casey. Yes, even Big Mike and, um, well, Jeff and Lester. Yeah them too. And that?s what we love about him. He?s loyal to a fault, good hearted, well meaning and a sweetheart. And yeah he?ll dress up for Comic Con and drag you along but you?ll have a hell of time there. He?s a dork but he can laugh at himself and he can fix your computer, pretty snazzy, I know! LOL.
Chuck is neither hip nor the hot, happening, it show of the moment. It just is. Season 3 had its ups and downs and there were gripes but this finale shows us yet again why we love the show, the writers and actors. There was action, humor, moments that made our hearts melt and there was a pay off (those wicked, infuriating, clever, wonderful writers). Looking back I feel as if over the seasons it?s been a natural progression, very organic, never hurried. The writers took their time. Nothing felt crammed in or over the top to me. There didn?t seem to be a need to outdo last week. Although for a moment there, some episodes made me wonder if I was watching a season finale and they didn?t tell us. LOL.
I for one think 3 months or however long we?ll have to wait for the new season is too long. But it?s worth the wait. This TV show Chuck is a keeper. And I can?t wait to see where they take us. To me the finale didn?t feel like an ending, it felt like just the beginning of a new chapter. Sorta like Supernatural, a reboot of sorts. Okay enough of my blathering. I return you now to your regularly scheduled program whatever that may be.
I?m blogging at TRS Blue today. Stop by, leave a comment and be entered to win 5 Changeling Credits. Good luck! http://trsblue.blogspot.com/ (Warning Adult Content)
Oh and watch White Collar on USA Network (or whatever channel it airs on where you are). How can you resist those gorgeous blue eyes of Matt Boomer’s? Seriously, he?s just gorgeous. I said that already didn?t I? Am I drooling? Sorry. *blush*
VIvian Arend wanted to be Asimov when she grew up. Lexxie Couper wanted to be Stephen King. Somewhere along the way, they both decided to be naughtier than their idols. Much, much naughtier. How naughty can two authors be?
The Story of Vivian and Claiming Derryn….
Space, the final frontier. Into this universe steps a slightly shell-shocked Canadian. What do you mean I have to write a story where no one shifts into some other form? Frick! Drawing on way too many years of Star Trek, (and BTW, I was the one who dreamed up a sexy Spock. He was my boyfriend, damnit all…) and reading Asimov and Clarke under the covers late into the night, a new menace has risen to threaten the galaxy.
Something is rotten in the Space Institute Corp. One of her undercover ships has mutinied. The SIC Nottingham is an unlikely place to find our sexy heroes, but they are there–two of them–waiting to recover their lost heroine so they can save the universe from rogue government, rebels with explosive plots and small furry creatures gone wild. No, they do NOT shift. Pay attention.
Three lovers reunited, a run on the energy market and an evil relative who will make you glad you don’t have to go home for holidays with him. Warning, m/m/f love that is hot enough to cause global warming on any planet.
How many layers of deception are there in space?
I’m very excited to be able to have Claiming Derryn available to you. This is my first futuristic novella, my first m/m/f, and my first release from Ellora’s Cave. Claiming Derryn is about three friends–and lovers during their days at the Space Institute–who were suddenly separated. Now rejoined in the midst of a rebel uprising, the lines between the good guys and the bad are extremely blurred. Surviving the situation is the goal, even as they find love. Oh, and if you’ve ever seen Star Trek’s ‘The Trouble with Tribbles’ you’ll understand when I say the ‘sharysa’ are my salute to Star Trek.
It?s a hot, wild ride through the galaxy. Be prepared for a passion that?s out of this world.
Snippet from Claiming Derryn:
They were pains in the ass. How had she put up with them for five years at the Institute? More importantly, how had she ever done without them? She had to guard her heart because there was no way she would to open herself up to the pain of being left alone, no matter what Trev said about loving her. They?d let her down once, they could do it again.
The best defense was offense.
?Take a walk outside, Davis, you?re so full of shit it stinks in here.?
Davis roared with laughter. He smirked at Trev, their elbows jostling together. ?She?s obviously learned to relax her rigid sense of propriety a little.?
He really was impossible. ?Go to hell.? She turned to look for a sign of which direction to go, anything to escape from here. From them.
?Tsk, tsk, is that anyway to talk to your new commanding officer??
Melina froze. No way. She sucked in a breath of air and tried to stop the world from spinning. ?You??
Davis nodded. ?Me.?
?No fucking way??
?What? So I?m a little colorful and inventive in my leadership style. I think after you settle in you?ll enjoy working under me.? His eyes flashed dark, his gaze dropping to her breasts. ?You?ll enjoy being under me again.?
Melina turned her back on him. Her heart pounded, panic not far away. Adjusting from being alone to having both men reenter her life in less than a day?it wasn?t happening. They pushed buttons she didn?t want to deal with. Trev appeared by her side, sympathy on his face. She wanted to deny the connection between them, ignore the desires rising as each minute passed. Only a whisper made it out. ?I need to get back to the War Eagle. I can?t serve with a man who I?ve?that we?ve??
?Lived with? Had sex with? Oh yeah, we were amazing together, Melina, admit it.? Trev moved closer, his intentional laziness gone, a dangerous spark that trickled heat through her core warning of his intent.
?Trev!? Melina stepped away.
He gave no quarter, circling her slowly in the hallway. To her right, Davis approached like a prowling beast. Trev chuckled, a warm molten sound that hit her in the belly and spread melting fingers through her. ?We?ll just have to work at keeping the bedroom and the bridge separated. I was a little surprised myself, but Davis is an excellent captain.?
?I give great oral?direction.? Davis? husky tones set a shiver down her spine.
She shook her head rapidly in denial. ?How can I take orders from a man I?ve seen naked??
?Naked and aroused.? Trev reminded her, capturing her from behind. He brushed aside her hair and nuzzled her neck. Memories rose of them surrounding her, wrapping her in their fire and desire and passion. Holy hell, she wanted this and dreaded it at the same time.
?Naked, aroused and mighty fine, admit it.? Davis stroked a finger down the placket of her shirt, and heat shot through her core with a rocket?s blaze.
?It?s never happening again,? she swore, clutching her fingers at her sides to stop from reaching for him.
?Never is a long, long time.? Davis stepped forward and claimed her lips in a kiss that ignited her soul. He drew their bodies together, his spicy male scent enveloping her as his hardness took possession of her softness. He forced his tongue past her teeth, pressing rough and fast, twining with her, consuming her. He dragged his fingers through her hair and pinned her between him and Trev, two solid barriers of scorching heat. When he finally released her lips, Melina gasped for air, clutching his uniform for stability. It had always been like that with Davis, a no-holds-barred attack.
Then he reached past her to where Trev suckled on her earlobe, exploring the sensitive tissue of her neck. Grasping the front of his shirt, Davis hauled Trev forward until he hung over Melina?s shoulder. Their mouths met and tongues explored, a kiss as deep and hard as the one Davis had bestowed on her moments earlier. Her pussy clenched as a rush of fluid flooded her body.
?Fuck, that?s hot.? Her heart pounded at the sight of the men together and the heat of passion rising from them, their rigid cocks pressing her on either side. She wanted this?wanted it more than her next breath. Screw the consequences, the backlash from her family and friends. Like any of them cared anymore. Watching the two men she?d always loved kissing for the first time in forever finally set her world back on the right trajectory.
They pulled apart slowly, Davis nipping at Trev?s lip before backing away. He grumbled low in his chest, caressing his thumb over lips swollen from his assault. ?I missed you.? His gaze darted to meet Melina?s. ?I?ve missed you so much. No more of this stinking talk about never. I want you both back where you belong?at my side and in my bed?and I?m not taking no for an answer.?
The Tale of Lexxie and Timeless Wrath…
Once upon a time there was this little Aussie writer with a very twisted imagination. One night, in a fit of insane inspiration, she wrote a novella called Deadly Sins: Anger. The novella a very dark, twisted, erotic and at times frightening tale was snapped up and published by an American publishing house. It won numerous awards and went totally unread by most of the world. This devastated the little Aussie writer to no end. Deadly Sins: Anger was a good book – a bloody good book. She sulked for many years until one day, she decided the world NEEDED to read the erotic tale of fated love and demonic forces. Plucking up more courage than she thought she had, the little Aussie writer regained publishing rights to her dark, sensual tale, reworked it considerably (including more sex, of course) and sent it to her editor at Ellora’s Cave. Her editor snapped it up immediately, and Deadly Sins: Anger was reborn as Timeless Wrath, a highly erotic novella that comes with the following publisher’s warning: Sex and violence abound in this terrifically intense tale; big-girl pants definitely required.
Anger is a powerful emotion. So is desire. And fear….
There must be something seriously wrong with me. I love writing stories that are dark and twisted, quite disturbing and full of wild dangerous sex. Enter Timeless Wrath. I wrote Timeless Wrath years ago and it was previously released as a novella called Deadly Sins: Anger. It won numerous awards (including the JERR Silver Star Award) but remained unknown to the reading public. However Evron and Ricki?s tale DEMANDED to be heard and, after quite a lot of rewrites, my most erotic book to date comes to you from Ellora?s Cave.
Timeless Wrath has just about everything you?d expect in a Lexxie Couper book ? lots of explosive sex, tormented heroes, lots of wild sex, a villain that?ll scare the pants right off you, lots of passionate sex and a love story fated by the Highest of Powers (oh, and lots of sex. Did I mention that?)
I should warn you though. Timeless Wrath isn?t for the faint of heart. It?s violent, at times scary and has been known to cause nightmares?and wicked, wet dreams
…Claiming Derryn will have you gazing longingly and lustfully at the stars every night… and Timeless Wrath will have you checking your closet for monsters…and your bed for a hunky Aussie hero.