Posts Tagged ‘Loose-Id’
Selena Note: I loved this book when it first came out. Belinda is re-releasing this book with Loose-Id, revised and extended. If you haven’t picked it up yet snap up your copy today!
There are three things that Dr. Briony Theale loves. Her job as a veterinarian, a good bar of rich, dark chocolate, and Rico, the ranger in charge of the Wildlife Rescue center. When a casual dinner with Rico turns surprisingly intimate, Briony realizes that she might just have a chance with him after all, if only she could lose a few pounds. It’s the ultimate sacrifice, but Briony goes cold turkey, and swears off chocolate forever.
Rico Montgomery fell hard for Briony the first time he set eyes on the curvy little doctor. Her rich brown hair and cocoa skin trigger cravings that he can barely control, and her fragrance is like the sweetest, richest chocolate he’s ever scented in his life. That’s a bad thing for Rico, because to a werewolf like him, chocolate is literally a toxin.
After his pack warns him off the very human doctor, Rico finds himself even more drawn to Briony.
Rico can’t live with it, and Briony can’t live without it. And when a certain wandering wolf finds a bag of chocolate in the trash near Briony’s clinic, these two will find out just how toxic love can be.
This is a substantially expanded and revised version of the short story Sex and Chocolate: Toxic which was previously published.
“Why’d you decide to be a vet?” He sucked a bit of sauce from his knuckle, noting how her eyes followed the movement.
“I just love animals, and they seem to like me back. I’m good at science, so it seemed to be the right field for me. And I do love it.” She finished her second piece, and this time he let it go. He’d send her home with leftovers. “How did you become a ranger?”
“Oh, I love animals, and I seem to be pretty good at science…” The corners of her eyes crinkled in laughter. “I’m a biologist, and most of what I do is in the field. So while I’m assigned to Rescue, I’m also in charge of monitoring raptors in this region. It ties in closely to what we do here. Luckily I have a good volunteer coordinator, because sometimes I spend days up in the mountains. Can’t think of a better job.”
She nodded, and he could sense she was getting ready to leave. Quickly he began gathering the leftovers and plates. “Dessert? I have ice cream.” He peeked into the freezer and pulled out a carton. “It’s that type with three flavors.”
“Neapolitan!” She laughed and rose to help him clean up. “Okay, but just a little. I’ll take a scoop from the chocolate side.”
They ate while standing. Rico leaned against the sink, letting the cool taste of strawberry melt over his tongue. He’d rather have chocolate, but that would be a bad idea. A very bad idea.
Briony clearly savored the flavors as she ate. “When I was a kid, my mom would buy this kind of ice cream. My little brother would eat the strawberry, and I’d eat the chocolate.”
“Leaving the vanilla behind.”
“Mom would get so mad!”
“Well, I can have the vanilla and the strawberry, but I have to leave the chocolate alone.”
“Don’t you like chocolate? I can’t imagine anyone not liking chocolate.”
He smiled at her expression of sympathy. “I love chocolate, but it doesn’t like me. It makes me a bit sick.”
“Wow. I can’t imagine…” She stared down at her bowl, dragging her spoon through the melted remains of the ice cream.
“There’s one way I can have chocolate.”
She looked at him, tilting her head just a bit. “How?”
“Like this.” Rico bent down and kissed her lightly, letting the tip of his tongue catch the flavor from her parted lips. He moved back slightly and smiled at her surprised expression. “Was that okay?”
She blinked and cleared her throat a little. The warm scent of chocolate filled the air, and Rico’s body responded, going hard and tight with need. “Uh…yeah… Yes.”
Taking that as permission, he rested the tips of his fingers on her cheek, knowing they were chilled from the ice cream bowl. Her eyes fluttered closed, her dark lashes making a crescent against the curve of her cheek. Slowly he kissed her again, drawing it out this time. He ran his fingers into the silky curls of her hair, then supported the back of her head as he took the kiss deeper. He tasted her, absorbing the essence of chocolate from her mouth, from her very skin. He shivered at the sensations that raced through his body.
Rico knew exactly when to break the kiss. “Nice,” he whispered in her ear, then stood up straight so she could move away. He trailed his fingers from her hair over her ear and down to her jaw. Her skin was fine and soft. “You taste so sweet. Chocolate kisses.”
He was about to kiss her again when she blinked and straightened. “Chocolate… Oh! I really need to leave.”
Rico stifled his disappointment, taking the bowl she still held.
“I’m sorry. I really do need to go. My night help can’t stay long, and I’ve got a dog in for chocolate toxicosis. I’ll need to stay at the clinic tonight.”
Rico turned to the sink, not liking that idea at all. He’d had girlfriends, some serious, but this protective streak surprised him. It took him a moment to regain control of his voice. “Will you be safe there alone?” He watched her reflection in the little window over the counter.
She laughed, and he was stunned by the dimples and the sudden spark of humor in her brown eyes. “Perfectly safe. I’ve got excellent security plus a nice overnight room for the weekend staff. In fact, when I first moved to town, I lived in the clinic until I found my house.”
He turned and leaned against the sink. “Just how good is your security?” He lifted a brow. He wasn’t an expert but knew people who were. The average security installation was little more than an illusion of safety.
“It’s the best.” She smiled up at him. “Designed by my own mother.”
“Seriously. That’s what she does for a living; she’s a security consultant. Former military.”
Well, that didn’t mean much either as far as Rico was concerned. Somehow he’d wrangle Kurt and Ethan into checking the place out. For tonight, though, he’d make certain she was safe.
He sighed, following as she gathered her things. “Okay, Bree, but if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call. Any time.”
“Oh, I couldn’t trouble you, Rico!”
“No trouble. Honest.” He grinned. “If the big bad wolf comes knocking at the door, I’m the man to call!”
She laughed in delight. “There aren’t any wolves in California! You told me that months ago.”
“You’re right. There aren’t any wolves in California. At least, not the four-legged kind. Not yet.”
Visit Belinda at http://www.belindamcbride.com
I finished this book Sunday night and LOVED it.
Your Biggest Fan is a beautiful story about Love, Acceptance of yourself and recognizing that you sometimes need to look up and see that life is better than you thought it was.
This may be an M/M story but I really did relate to the absolutely adorable Truman “Tru”. Up until a few years ago I had the hardest time accepting my depression or the fact that I had indeed made friends and that life was better than I thought it was. It took a lot of knocks before I finally got the message. I may still be skittish when it comes to certain things and open up but I know now that I have friends who love me and speak “Selena” even when I make no sense whatsoever.
The themes of this book transcends simply a GLBTQ story and is truly a human story that can help anyone who needs someone to relate to about accepting one’s self and accepting the gift of love.
A truly wonderful read that you will leave you wanting more of this new series from the talented Ms. Welsh.
Buy Links for Your Biggest Fan:
And she will write more of this series, right Missy?
Don’t make me break out the Kitten of Guilt.
So here’s some updates. I’ve finished Dragon Ugly (a menage) the second in the Dragon New Year series and have turned that into my editor. I’ve also turned in the genie story that I’ve had on backburner for over two years. And I’ve turned in a Halloween Quickie (a menage) to Etopia Press. This month I hope to finally finish my next Draven Crossings book, the first in my Bachelor Auction series and do some revisions on the stories that I’ve taken back, such as add up to 15k to With His Mind. You’ll be getting more news about some stories and their rights later on in the week, hopefully it’ll be good news.
This month I’ll be appear at:
Sept 12th- Talking Two Lips Yahoo Group
Sept 15th- Love Romance Club Yahoo Group
Sept 30th- Etopia Chat at LRC Yahoo Group
And this month’s pick for the Offerings Book Club, in honor of Cynnara Tregarth’s birthday is:
I’ll also be trying to convince Cynnie to do a BDSM workshop for the Group. And I’m mulling over a few other workshops for the month.
My foray into self-pub has been put on hold. I’ve learned that I can’t bounce back as quickly as I used to when I accomplish finishing two books back to back. So, I have to, much to my annoyance, take it slow and take my time. Not that great an idea when your brain keeps dumping plot bunnies in your lap.
What I’m reading for this month on Bertha (my Nook):
Holding the Cards by Joey W. Hill
Kim by Rudyard Kipling
Letting off Steam by Sahara Kelly
Menage on a Train by Alice Gaines
Crazy in the Blood by Lucienne Driver
Napoleon’s Pyramids by William Dietrich
A long list, I know, but I’m almost done with Kim and Menage on Train. . So whats on your reading list? Authors what are you working on? I do need more books to read and I see that Lissa Matthews and Miranda Baker have new books coming soon. *Grins* As well as Rhian Cahill. New yummies to read.
Until Next Time!
Food Fun from a Non-Foodie
I’m delighted to be here with Se celebrating the release of my new novel, Genetic Celebrity. This book is a MMF ménage that takes place in the world of supermodels, and it also includes a ton of food porn. Now this is ironic, because, unlike Se, I am not a foodie. In fact, I’m the direct opposite. For the most part, food is only interesting to me as an opportunity for socializing and conversation. I love breakfast because I really like eggs. But beyond that, I get excited over a Starbucks chai latte.
My favorite non-foodie story harkens back to when I was in my early 20s. I had a great apartment just outside Washington, D.C. My mom came to visit me for the weekend and arrived while I was still at work. She thought she’d surprise me by cooking dinner. My apartment had a nice kitchen. She let herself into the apartment, opened my refrigerator and found a bottle of champagne, a jar of mustard, and an orchid. Needless to say, she had some shopping to do. During that same period, I had some friends come to visit me from Germany. I wanted to cook fried chicken. I had to call my mother to ask for every step of the process. And I had to go out and buy the ingredients — including the salt and pepper.
I’m a little better now. I even had a short gourmet cook period in my life. But I know a lot about food, having been surrounded by great cooks, and I called upon their spirits in writing Genetic Celebrity. In the story, my hero Tommy Riley is an amateur gourmet cook. Even though he’s been attracted to men most of his life, he has a mad passion for an older, gorgeous female modeling agent. But she only seems to love him for his food. The his boss brings home a beautiful, androgynous street kid who he wants to turn into a supermodel. Tommy is attracted to him too. Yep, it’s a ménage with Food Porn!! To get into their passions for food, I drew on the things I know and love — whipped cream, strawberries, and, of course, champagne. What foods do you consider sexy?
Would you like a chance to win a $10 GC? Leave a comment here WITH YOUR EMAIL. Want a chance to win 2 $10 GCs? Come over to Beautiful Boys Books and leave a comment with your email and do a few more steps. You’ll be entered in TWO drawings. You can also win some fun SWAG. All the instructions for how to do that are at Beautiful Boys Books. But first, leave a comment here with your email. Thank you again, Se, for being my food inspiration–and for having me on the blog today.
Excerp ADULT: Genetic Celebrity by Tara Lain; MMF Menage with Food!
Tommy Riley loves cooking and the simple life. But his passion for Angie “Booky” Edelson is anything but simple. Beautiful, ambitious, hard-driving and 10 years older than Tommy, Booky represents all the things Tommy has tried to leave behind. Besides, she only seems to love him for his food! Then Tommy’s boss brings home Shay Shaleen, a pierced, tattooed, androgynous street kid for Booky to turn into a top male model. Tommy sizzles for the beautiful guy but Shay gets caught up in the flattery of a famous fashion designer. Why does Tommy have to fall for two people who can’t love him back? Is there a recipe for blending with these genetic celebrities?
What an embarrassing few hours. All the kid had to do was raise an eyebrow, and Tommy’s cock stood up and said howdy. He’d spent three hours with Booky and two hours with Shay, and he felt like his damned penis had been doing jumping jacks, warming up, but it never got to play in the big game. It was bouncing around, yelling, “Put me in, coach.” He chuckled. Maybe the problem was his biggest athletic achievement had been in chess. And right now he needed an attack on his queen. He rolled over to the nightstand and pulled out his lube.
A quick squirt. He reached down and pulled the pajama bottoms below his half-hard cock. Just thinking about that guy lying across the hall in the guest bed was turning him on. He sighed, rubbed the lube on his hands, then stopped. What did this all mean? As a young kid he’d shown all the usual interest in little girls, talking them into pulling down their panties and all that. Then in high school he’d discovered guys, but the girl thing never really went away. Which had been good because he could date girls and have sex even while he was lusting after the only guy in the tournament who could beat him in chess.
He’d had the biggest hard-on for Damien. Then on the day that Tommy had finally beaten him with a kingside strategy, Damien had pulled him into a stall in the men’s room and kissed him. Je-sus. Tommy ripped the guy’s pants off and had his big cock in Damien’s ass before he could cry surrender. They’d fucked desperately for fear somebody was going to come into the bathroom. At one point someone had come through the door, and Damien had jumped up on the toilet so no one could see his feet. Tommy stood there sucking Damien’s cock quietly while the visitor peed outside in the urinal. Jeez, that had been fun. Of course, later they’d been discovered by his father while making out in Tommy’s bedroom. Talk about shit hitting fans.
This was the wrong time to think about that. He reached for his cock and paused. Damn, he should call Booky before it got any later and get her over here tomorrow. He looked at his lube-covered hand, then reached for the phone with his dry one. No reason to waste time or lube. He hit the speed dial with his thumb.
He heard the ringing. “Hey, Tommy. What’s up, baby?”
That husky voice vibrated through his ear and dived straight to his cock. He grabbed the dick as it stretched. “Hi, Book. Uh, can you come over tomorrow?” Oh yes, just one little squeeze.
“Sure, what’s going on?”
“Ummm, Roan has a special project for you.” He clicked on to speaker so he could use both hands.
One hand after the other with a twist at the top the way he liked.
“Oh, that’s great.” She sounded happy. His balls liked that. “What’s the project?”
“It’s, uh, uh, kind of a surprise.” Stroke, stroke.
“I love surprises.” He’d like to surprise her. “But come on, bubala, give me a hint.”
“No hints.” Stroke. Stroke. Stroke.
“Tommy Riley, don’t be mean. Tell me.” Oh God, that voice. He pictured the lips the voice was coming from. Had to control his panting.
“No, no, can’t tell. Sorry, Book, have to go. I…uh, have something in the oven.”
“At this hour?”
“Yeah, and it’s getting too hot.”
“Okay, what time shall I come?”
“Come? Oh yes, come. Come at nine thirty for breakfast. Come. Okay?”
“Okay.” She sounded suspicious.
“See you tomorrow.” Stroke, stroke. He clicked off, threw the phone on the bed, rose up on his knees, and got serious. While he was at it, he might as well get off on some more fantasies.
Imagine fucking Shay Shaleen. Those long legs stretched over his pretty head, Tommy hammering his ass. Yesss. And shoving his big, thick dick into Booky. Making her scream his name over and over. Oh, that was so good. Into Shay. Into Booky. Shay. Booky. Fucking them both. Wow. Stroke, stroke, stroke. She-it! Spunk shot out of his dick and landed on the top of the sheets while flashes of heat seared through his balls and into his head.
“Jeez. Yes!” He gasped and took deep breaths. His muscles relaxed. He’d clean the sheets tomorrow. Sleep now. Shay and Booky. I wish.
Author blog: http://taralain.blogspot.com
Book blog: http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com
Tara Lain never met a beautiful boy she didn’t love – at least on paper. A writer of erotic romance, mostly ménage and male/male, Tara loves all her characters, but especially her handsome heroes. A lifelong writer of serious non-fiction, Tara only fell in love with EROM in 2009 and, through perseverance and lots of workshops, had the first novel she ever wrote published in January of 2011. Then she capped off the year by being voted Best Author of 2011 in the LRC Awards and had her Genetic Attraction Series named runner-up for Best Series of 2011! A very good year. After an exotic life of travel all over the world and work in television, education and advertising, Tara settled in Southern California with her soul-mate husband and opened her own small marketing business. She paints, collages, and started practicing yoga “way before it was fashionable”. Passionate about diversity, justice, inclusion and new ideas, she says on her tombstone it will read, “Yes”.
Cooking With Sin…Literally!
Can I just take a minute to say, “whoot, whoot”! I’m unbelievably excited to guest host a blog for Selena’s Ebook week. Perfect timing as well since I
have a new release coming out next Tuesday, March 13.
Cooking With Sin
will be my third erotic romance published with Loose-Id, the second installment in the All Cooked Up series and
my very first published series. Following on the heels of Forever, I Do, the first installment in the series, Cooking With Sin revolves
around the oldest Fletcher sibling, Sinclair. Former food show host and restaurateur, the petite domino is a foodie as well, just not a good one. She
can’t cook worth a damn.
But that doesn’t stop Sinclair from turning her restaurant, Too Sinful to Burn, nestled in the heart of Savannah, Georgia a hit. Armed with her late
Aunt Bernie’s Low Country recipes, a hundred-year old spell and a ton of guilt, Sinclair cheats her way to the top.
Things fall apart, like they always do, when hunkie Senior Chief Petty Officer Cole Rodriguez refuses to give up his seat during the busy St. Patrick’s
Day weekend and setting off a sequence of events that will change Sinclair’s and his life forever.
Instead of sharing an excerpt, I wanted to share one of six recipes included in the book. Recipes?! You read it correctly. After each chapter in the
book, I’ve included six of my personal Southern recipes (unlike the heroine in my book, I can throw down) that would surely find its way on Sinclair’s
Shrimp with Cheesy Grits
1 lb. shrimp Parsley
3 tbsp butter Salt and Pepper
1 cup grits 1 cup of shredded sharp/mild cheese
Peel and devein shrimp, then set aside. In saucepan, combine four cups of water and salt. Once the water starts to boil, pour in grits. Reduce heat and
stir occasionally. Once grits thicken, stir in cheese and one tbsp butter. In skillet, melt remaining butter. On high heat, add shrimp and sauté.
Remove from heat, toss with parsley and pepper. Spoon cheese grits on plate, top with handful of shrimp. Drizzle again with grits. Serves 4.
Sounds yummy, right? Then you should see the other five recipes, all of them will make your mouth water.
More about Cooking with Sin book:
From the moment Senior Chief Petty Officer Cole Rodriguez lays eyes on celebrity TV chef turned restaurateur, Sinclair Fletcher, he realizes his
celebrity crush is something more. But convincing the petite dynamo harboring a secret that could ruin her career and reputation proves more
difficult than a six hundred meter dive for the Naval master diver.
Out of the frying pan into the fire, Sinclair Fletcher has rested her laurels on a hundred-year old spell that makes everyone fall in love with her
cooking. Only drawback, they fall in love with her as well. So it only makes sense she doesn’t allow anyone to get close, not even mouth-watering
SCPO Cole Rodriguez. But when she gets one taste of the sexy sailor, things start to heat up and he has her wanting more.
Cooking With Sin
by Koko Brown
Release Date: March 13, 2012
Paranormal, Interracial Erotic Romance
Published by Loose-Id
Buy eBook from Loose-Id.com
P.S. From today until March 15, the official release date of the book, I’m hosting a tie-in giveaway. One lucky winner will win a set of personalized 2GB USB Dog Tags with a free copy of Cooking With Sin already downloaded on the internal jump drive and a $12 gift certificate to have
the tags engraved. To enter the giveaway, all you have to do is click this link, which will redirect you to my website, and answer the
question in the comment section!
Erotic Romance with a plot!
Captain Mal, The Ultimate Antihero
I love anti-heroes, men who make you question their motives and their morality but always come through in the end as men of honor even if their methods are a bit tarnished. One of my favorite anti-heroes is Captain Malcolm Reynolds from Firefly. Mal fought for the independents because he believed in a world where people could live free of the Alliance’s control. He did his best to care for the men and women who served under him. And later when he becomes captain of the Firefly class ship, Serenity, Mal truly cared about his crew even if he’s didn’t always show it.
Mal doesn’t behave as a traditional hero should. He prefers to shoot first and ask questions later. He takes jobs that put him on the wrong side of the law, content to steal when necessary to support his crew. He kills when he needs to and doesn’t spend time on remorse.
But “Bad” as he may be, Mal protects his crew even when he doesn’t like them personally, and he never leaves a man or woman behind. Once someone is under his protection, he’ll risk his life for them even if he thinks their predicament is their own fault.
Captain Marc Devlin from my Shifter’s Station Collection is a similar type of anti-hero. He served Terra Gov as a special forces officer until they chose to experiment on him and other members of his battalion, turning them into shape-shifting killing machines. A natural leader, he gathered a group of the genetically-altered shifters and helped them escape and form a mercenary company.
But he’s no do-gooder. He’s harsh and controlling, and he isn’t the least bit concerned with the legality of the jobs he takes on. As long as the money’s good and he can support his crew, he’s content. He’ll shoot any man or woman who threatens him or his crew without a second thought. He’s gruff and tough as hell on the men and women who work for him, but he has their loyalty, because they know he’ll do anything to keep them safe.
Captain Devlin is also not above abusing his power when it suits him like when Larissa delivers a faulty shipment of weapons to his station. He and his lover, Commander Kirlos Adesta, determine that she had no part in the sabotage attempt, but Marc wants her in his bed so he refuses to release her, eventually making her a wager he’s confident he’ll win.
Read an excerpt below of the meeting between Marc, Kirlos and Larissa and see if this anti-hero doesn’t make your pulse flutter…..
Silvia Violet writes erotic romance in a variety of genres including sci fi, paranormal, and historical. She can often be found haunting coffee shops looking for the darkest, strongest cup of coffee she can find. Once equipped with the needed fuel, she can happily sit for hours pounding away at her laptop. Silvia typically leaves home disguised as a suburban stay-at-home-mom, and other coffee shop patrons tend to ask her hilarious questions like “Do you write children’s books?” She loves watching the looks on their faces when they learn what she’s actually up to. When not writing, Silvia enjoys baking sinful chocolate treats, exploring new styles of cooking, and reading children’s books to her wickedly smart offspring.
Shifter’s Station Collection by Silvia Violet
Years ago, the Terran Government betrayed special forces officer Marc Devlin, forcing him to flee for his life. He rescued several fellow officers and built a new life as the head of his own mercenary force. When he captures a beautiful Cerian diplomat, he thinks to torture the man to learn Cerian secrets. Instead, he finds a lover. Months later, Marc and his Cerian lover, Kirlos, take a young woman captive, fearful she might be an agent of one of Marc’s oldest enemies. The two men strike a bargain with her that lands her in their bed for a month. As they dole out exquisite torment with their Cerian sex table, passion builds and turns to love. But Marc and Kirlos must fight to keep her and the life they’ve made for themselves.
This e-book collection contains the previously released Shifter’s Station series novellas Pilot’s Bargain, Pilot’s Heart, Loving the Enemy, and Eye of the Tigress.
Buy it at Changeling Press: http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1315
Buy it at All Romance Ebooks: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-shifter039sstationcollection-419034-144.html
Excerpt from Shifter’s Station 1: Pilot’s Bargain
The commander cut off whatever Captain Devlin was going to say. “I have the ability to probe your mind to determine if you’re telling the truth. And if you are lying, I can compel the truth from you.”
Larissa studied him for a moment. He seemed sincere and somewhat dismayed by the captain’s brusque manner. “Do it.”
She felt pressure on her head, as if someone were mashing the heel of their hand against her forehead. Then the pressure turned to pain. It grew sharper until it felt like a needle was boring into her skull.
She felt tension radiating from Adesta. “Stop fighting it.”
“I… can’t. I don’t –”
Then the pain spread as if her skull had cracked. She fell to her knees, panting. The world began to go black. But just before she passed out, the pain disappeared.
“Fires of hell, she’s strong.”
The captain snorted. “Did you get through?”
“Yes, she’s telling the truth.”
Thank the god. They would have to let her go now. Larissa heard the men speaking, but they sounded very far away. A dull pounding still echoed in her head. Nothing like the tearing pain of the scan, but she still wasn’t sure she could stand.
Then she felt a hand on her arm. It was the commander. She wanted to refuse his assistance, but she didn’t want to be on her knees in front of the captain. He was arrogant enough without her prostrating herself like a slave.
When the commander helped her to her feet, she stepped away and forced herself to focus on Devlin. His dark eyes were narrow and cold. “Who taught you to shield your thoughts?”
Devlin raised his brows. “You need this ability often on cargo runs?”
“When you take these kinds of jobs, you do.”
He laughed. “I suppose you are right. Federated Transport isn’t exactly a legitimate business.”
“And yours is?”
Adesta’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “You seem to be losing your touch, Captain. You usually have them trembling in their boots by now.”
Larissa just managed to keep from rolling her eyes. The captain might be one delightfully put together man, but she had no intention of rolling over for him. “Can I go now?”
Devlin scowled. “No.”
“The commander has established my innocence.”
“He has established that you were unaware that the weapons were faulty. But I still have one dead crewman and several more injured. Someone has to pay.”
“Yes. That someone is my bastard of a boss.”
“But he’s not here, and you are.”
“Captain.” The warning glare in the commander’s eyes gave Larissa hope he might convince his superior to let her go.
Larissa’s heart pounded. “You can’t be serious.”
He gave a cold smile. “I’m always serious.”
Larissa clasped her hands behind her back to hide their shaking. “You can’t just keep me here.”
“I can do anything I damn well please.”
The captain stepped toward her. She stabbed her nails into her palms, hoping the pain would dull her fear and help her hold her ground.
Devlin grasped the single braid that hung down her back and jerked her head to the side. “I am the law here. No one questions what I do. If I wanted to shove you out an airlock, that’s exactly what I’d do. No one would dare protest.”
She held her breath, and commanded her suddenly rubbery legs to keep her upright.
He let her go and stepped back. “Fortunately for you, I have something far more pleasant in mind as repayment for your crimes.”
Larissa’s lungs burned, but she couldn’t seem to fill them with air. She forced herself to look him in the eye. “I have no intention of letting you punish me for a crime I didn’t commit.”
Adesta smirked. “I like her spirit.”
The captain stared at her intently. “So do I. The spirited ones are so much more fun to break.”
Larissa’s heart hammered against her chest. She knew her eyes were wide and her fear shone all too plainly. She felt like a rabbit cornered by a wolf — a big bad wolf with plans to eat her.
Now why the hell did that thought make her body feel hot and tight? She was so damn wet she’d likely soaked through her flight suit. What was wrong with her?
Devlin took a long, deliberate inhale. “Mmm. I think she likes us more than she wants us to know.”
Shit! The last thing she needed was for him to be aware of how she was responding to them. She needed to convince them to let her go. But before she could think of anything to say, Devlin’s lips curled up in a wicked smile.
“Since you seem so interested in the issue of fairness, why don’t we strike a bargain?”
“What bargain would that be?” Larissa mentally cursed the quaver she heard in her voice.
His smile widened. “I will spend the next two hours convincing you that you want to stay. If you can resist, you go free. If you can’t, you agree to remain on the station as my servant for the next month.”
Larissa took a deep breath. Her initial reaction was to tell him to go to hell, but something told her this might be her only way off the station. “How will you convince me to stay?”
“That’s my secret, but you have my word you will come to no harm.”
“Why should I trust you?”
The captain’s face froze, and a sound too like an animal’s growl rose from his chest.
Larissa glanced at Adesta. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t go down that road if I were you.”
“Fine. If I were to lose, which I have no intention of doing, how would you expect me to serve you?”
The captain’s smile returned instantly. “With every last inch of your naked body.”
Purchase Link: http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1315
Contest: Comment and be entered to win a book from Silvia’s Backlist! Good Luck!
Silvia’s Website: http://silviaviolet.com
To watch episodes of Firefly online go to Hulu here: http://www.hulu.com/firefly
Tie Me Up, Please!
By Vonna Harpe
Welcome to my world, a kinky, great fun world IMO! Here’s a poorly-kept secret. I love writing bondage/capture stories. Its my fantasy, where I go in my mind when the world gets heavy or simply for fun.
For those who think I’m blowing smoke, here’s an example from my recent Loose Id release Brought Down.
“Yes, my captive, yes. Right now, you don’t believe me. I don’t blame you.” His expression sobered. “You believe the only way I can get you to cooperate is by force, but force breaks the spirit.”
The whole time he’d been talking, his rough fingers had tightened and relaxed, tightened and relaxed, sending strange sensations throughout her lower leg. There was nothing forceful in what he was doing, and his grip was far from painful. To her shock, she regretted it when he stopped.
“A woman’s body is quick to heat,” he went on. Releasing her shin, he pressed the heel of his hand against the side of her calf. “Just as a wolf answers to his belly’s needs, a woman heeds her sex.”
What had he said? If not for those words, surely her attention wouldn’t have turned to what lay hidden between her legs. No longer just pressing on her calf, his hand now moved back and forth. Even more disconcerting, he’d started lightly raking his nails over her knee. The touch put her in mind of a bird’s wing.
No, not a bird’s wing.
She couldn’t get away. Struggling would serve no purpose. As he continued his unexpectedly gentle exploration, she relaxed a little. She should fear this man with the thick, rich black hair that brushed the tops of his shoulders and bushy eyebrows. Unlike some men who wore beards, he’d taken a knife to his cheeks and chin, but not for the past few days. The shading added to his wild appearance.
“I didn’t think your flesh would be this soft,” he muttered. “It should be rough from the wind.”
His uncertain tone pulled her back from her study of his appearance. For the first time, she noted curiosity in his eyes and wondered if today was as much a journey for him as for her. Yet the differences were telling. He was in control of his journey, while she had no say. He’d captured her simply because he could.
Sighing, he changed from a crouch to kneeling. Once settled, he ran his hand along her thigh. Both dreading and anticipating what was going to happen, Kahsha breathed through every inch of the journey. He could be cruel yet wasn’t. Could draw blood but hadn’t. Instead he studied her while slowly, so slowly, guiding his hand to the inside of her thigh. Her dress barely covered her crotch, yet he didn’t take advantage.
“You can’t want this,” he muttered. Leaning forward, he exhaled his warm breath on her leg. “You hate everything I’m doing.” He sighed. “At the same time, you want to know what’s going to happen. That will make you tremble, and in the trembling, you’ll give up pieces of yourself. Hand your body over to me.”
He was right about the shivering. To her disbelief, insisting she wanted nothing to do with what he was doing would be a lie. Surely it would be different once she fully recovered from whatever he’d injected her with.
Ah, that was it; there was still poison in her system. Nothing to do with wondering what his fingers on her core would feel like.
Maybe he’d tapped into her thoughts, because after patting her knee, he slid his hand between her legs. It’s going to happen, his deep eyes said.
“Time,” he muttered, “to begin.”
Barely believing what was happening, she stared at his forearm and what she now could see of his wrist. The upward march fascinated her so that she couldn’t concentrate on remaining erect. His rough skin burned hers. She tried squeezing her thighs together, only to sob and let go when her muscles threatened to cramp.
He was saying something in a language she’d heard a few times but understood nothing of. Only the tone, soft and low, mattered. Perhaps what he was saying had nothing to do with her, but maybe he was detailing everything he had planned for her.
Anyone except me hot and bothered now? What’s truly amazing to me is that before I dove into the world of writing erotica, I kept my fantasies under wraps. Why? Because of my upbringing. Let me explain.
In purely psychological terms, Freud was a nut. In 1908, he declared that, “a happy person never fantasizes, only a dissatisfied one.”
Fortunately, a great deal has changed since those uninformed days with such experts as psychologists Harold Leitenberg and Kris Henning doing extensive studies on peoples’ sexual fantasies. Their conclusion: only about 5% of people don’t dream up sexy romps. In fact, it’s now considered pathological not to have such fantasies.
Whew! Good news for me because my erotica banks on readers’ need and desire for the aforementioned. But it isn’t enough for an erotica writer to simply open the bedroom door wide and call a pussy a pussy. There has to be a reason for the pussy to get into the act, like a plot to go with the sex. Many times I decorate my plot around bondage.
Good choice because psychiatrist Ethel Person of Columbia University reports that 51 percent of women imagine being forced to have sex and another third get off on pretending to be a slave who must obey a man’s every wish. Yep, I’m in good company, something I didn’t know back when the muse (or my carnal imagination) compelled me to write my first Ellora’s Cave capture story, Forced. http://www.jasminejade.com/pm-5333-77-forced.aspx (Ask me how much I dig the cover)
In it, a downsized lady cop gets pegged to go undercover to expose a slavery ring. Unfortunately—or fortunately—the first step calls for her being taught what it’s like to be a sex slave. With every like-themed book, I kick up my own fantasies another notch and judging by reader reaction, I’m on the right track.
So why do scenes full of ropes and chains touch so many people’s hot buttons? For the answer, I went back to the shrinks. According to Leitenberg and Henning, “Women who find submission fantasies sexually arousing are very clear that they have no wise to be raped in reality. In their fantasies, women control every aspect of what happens.” According to the article, “Power, Desire, and Pleasure in Sexual Fantasies” by Eileen Zurbriggen in the Aug, 2004 Journal of Sex Research, women who fanaticize about submission have a more positive attitude about sex and are less sexually guilty and more open to a variety of sexual experiences. Female submissive fantasies may be one aspect of an open, positive, guilt-free sexuality.
Why is that? Blame or credit the brain. The brain is as potent a sexual organ as the genitalia. As a result, our imagination allows us to safely explore our sexuality without waiting for Mr. Right or Wrong. No one is going to judge and criticize our thoughts. We can let them run wild—or handcuff and hog-tie them if we so choose.
I’ll choose the handcuffs, thank you very much. And throw in a blindfold and dildo for my helpless, writhing, and over-the-top excited female captive while I’m at it. And, most important, add one (or more) male hunk who can’t keep his hands off her helpless body because real women get off on being desired. As Leitenberg and Henning put it, “Women tend to envision something being done to them and to concentrate more on their partner’s interest in her.”
In his Psychology Today article, “The Safest Sex—Sexual Fantasies”, Peter Doskoch maintains that men have Playboy to prime their pumps while women turn to the “cookie-cutter” Harlequin romances which always include an emotional, passionate romance for mental and otherwise stimulation. Well, guess what. Those vanilla romances aren’t enough as witness by Ellora’s Cave’s phenomenal success.
Women readers want and deserve and are now getting more, a hell of a lot more. Their pumps are primed because erotic bondage (and its relatives) include emotion and passion, in spades.
In other words, it’s a short step from book to bed.
Just because, my latest Samhain release, Predator, also touches on capture themes. http://store.samhainpublishing.com/predator-p-6252.html
Genetic Attraction is my first novel (although I’ve been writing nonfiction for many years). I decided to write it when I discovered erotic romance and loved the genre so much, I thought “I could write one of these books.” But Genetic Attraction didn’t start out to be a ménage a trois. When I first conceived the plot, I expected it to be an older woman/younger man romance, but then one day I ordered a book by Jet Mykles called Heaven. It was my first male/male romance and I was hooked! I had to add another man to my book.
Fortunately, ignorance is bliss. I didn’t know that writing a ménage is hard, so I just plunged in. Since this first novel, I’ve written three other books and two of them are ménages:– one is m/m/f and one is m/m/m/. I guess I really like this dynamic. Here’s what I’m learning:
- Love between three people can be just as sweet and intense and passionate as between two– at least in romance novels! The real-life dynamics of a ménage are probably very tricky, but virtually everyone has harbored in their heart at sometime the thought that maybe, just maybe, they could love two people. Ménage stories play into this fantasy.
- Ménages make interesting plots. Simple, you have three people to play with, to make interact with each other, to provide richness and detail to your story. In Genetic Attraction, two of my lead characters are scientists and one is a supermodel. As readers, we get to see scenes played out in their different worlds- in the lab, at photo shoots, at a faculty party.
- Pronouns can be killers! Writing male/male stories is a unique challenge since both characters are called “he”, so you have to find ways to differentiate them without using their names constantly, and without being confusing. Now, add another man to the mix as I’m doing in my current work-in-progress, a m/m/m ménage. Yikes. It takes some creativity and very deep point-of-view for each character.
- Sex between three people needs careful thought. The reader needs to know where each character is and what they’re doing. No one can be left out, so we need to see reactions from each character as well as actions.
- But, oh, it’s soooo much fun. A ménage is fun to read and it’s fun to write. So many yummy things can be done simultaneously when you have three people. Just use your imagination. That’s what I did. : )
I want to thank Selena for being such a gracious host and for all her incredible help and support to this new author. And huge hugs to all the readers who have been sending me messages on e-mail and Twitter and in blog posts saying how much they enjoy the book and the excerpts. It makes me cry, guys. So tell me, what kind of romantic pairings or multiples do you most enjoy? You’ve got a bunch or writers listening who will be happy to give them to you!? : )
At a conservative Long Island University, renowned researcher, Dr. Emmaline Silvay, has two great loves– her life-saving work, and her younger research partner, Jake Martin. The romantic love is impossible. She’s his boss and he lives with his girlfriend. The the “girlfriend” is actually a boyfriend, the beautiful and infamous supermodel, Roan Black.
Resigned to a platonic relationship, Em accepts a weekend invitation to their home, but the men have a menage on their minds. She can’t resist, doesn’t even want to. But their intentions go far beyond passion. They want her to “be a part of them”. Their three-way love defies propriety and the standards of the University that funds their work. The supermodel’s fame makes secrecy impossible. Their ménage threatens to crumble all she’s worked for. What will give way to make room for genetic attraction?
Yikes! Damn, he got her again. The lab staff teased her for getting so absorbed in her work an ax murderer could sneak up on her.
She looked up from her computer at her favorite tall, blond ax murderer, a.k.a. research associate. The blue, blue eyes behind the Clark Kent wire rims sparkled with humor.
He chuckled. “Sorry, I tried to make a lot of noise opening your door.”
She sighed and pushed away from the big wooden desk that crowded her small office. Oh yeah, now she felt the exhaustion. “I was somewhere else, as usual.”
“Just wanted to know if you’d finished the gene sequencing?”
She looked up into that sculpted face and squinted at the pain between her eyebrows. “I got a lot done, but I’m seeing double.” Headache or not, she could see him just fine.
“C’mon, it’s after nine. Let’s give up before we have a thirty-two-gene sequence instead of sixteen.”
Ouch. Fourteen hours at a computer. She closed her eyes and stretched her neck to the side.
Strong, warm hands pressed down on her shoulders. His fingers pushed her head forward, and powerful thumbs dug into her neck. She jumped and then shivered.
“That’s where it hurts, right?” He dug in a little deeper.
Increased heart rate. Spiked respiration. She thought of it as the “Jake reaction.” The touch of those strong, young hands that he seemed to put on her body way too often and the warm smell of him always powered a reaction. Some tiny part of her rational scientist’s mind could watch while her body went wacko, tingling, shivering and yearning. She might be a thirty-six-year-old geneticist with a huge reputation to protect, but she wanted Jake Martin with a lust she couldn’t reason away. It was a crappy idea, the very worst for her sanity and her career, but those were the facts. Like the direct pathway of alcohol to the liver, nothing got in the way of her desire, not his youth, his position as her assistant researcher, or the fact that he lived with his girlfriend.
She pulled away from his hands. “We should go.”
His slight pause made her think she’d hurt him with her abruptness, but when she glanced up he smiled, flashing patentable dimples. “Let’s get something to eat.”
God, the cheekbones. The floppy gold hair. Half science geek, half demigod. He’d already stripped out of his lab coat, and the well-worn jeans hugged long, lean thighs. Resistance was futile. “Penne with sun-dried tomatoes?”
“You got it, sweetheart.” He pulled her out of the chair, a move that almost backed him up to her side wall. Space wasn’t a luxury afforded in this lab.
“Show proper respect there, boy child. That’s Doctor Sweetheart.”
“Then I’ll have to demand Doctor Boy Child.”
“Boy Child PhD?”
“Top of my résumé.” Jake leaned her against his chest — yeah, that would be rock-hard chest — and slipped the lab coat she wore on clinic days off her shoulders and threw it on her desk.
He just held her, his hands caressing her back as his breath rasped against her hair.
Damn, why did he do this? He touched her a lot, and she didn’t know if he simply didn’t realize how sexual his attentions seemed or if he was being sadistic. Wasn’t he getting enough at home?
She pulled back and practiced her motherly smile. “I must be tired.”
Gently turning her around, he pushed her toward the door, switching off the lights as they went. “Mama Sophia’s?”
Outside in the open lab, she shrugged on the green wool jacket he held for her. Computers still glowed on two desks where colleagues would return after dinner to continue work. She had a dedicated team, and she hated to leave, but eventually food and sleep even outweighed cancer research. She usually got here before seven, and food breaks were scarce. The thought of pasta made her mouth water as she watched Jake switch off the lights. “C’mon, Dr. Boy Child. Garlic is my drug of choice.”
* * * * *
“Okay, God is Italian.” The subtle flavor of tomatoes, garlic, and olive oil floated over her tongue.
“Yeah, just ask an Italian. He’ll tell you God gave them Sophia Loren and seventy-five-year-old prime ministers that still get it up for their twenty-five-year-old mistresses. Clearly, divine dispensation.” He sucked in a bite.
Mmm. Warm, oregano-spiced air, and the cinnamony smell of Jake beside her. Her favorites. “I thought that was all about the little blue pill?”
“Also a gift from the gods.”
They sat in their favorite red, faux-leather booth at the back of the homey restaurant complete with Chianti-bottle candles and red-checked tablecloths. Jake had taken off his leather jacket, leaving him in a soft, gray, tissue-thin sweater that hugged his beautiful lean torso. He’d pushed the sleeves up, and she tried not to stare at those corded golden forearms. The soft material of the sweater was almost as beautiful as his skin.
How did the man afford to dress that way on what she paid him? Never flashy, but even she could see the clothes had quality. He didn’t come from money, but he had just bought a house in what she’d heard was a very elegant neighborhood in Connecticut. Did his girlfriend have money? Damn, the girlfriend certainly had him.
“Am I finally going to meet your girlfriend on Friday?”
He made a quick grab for his water glass and took a sip, splashing a few drops on his glasses. “My girlfriend?”
Why was he being coy? “Yes, the girlfriend you moved in with, right? She must be curious about where you spend so many late nights. I assume you’re going to bring her Friday.”
He pulled his glasses off and wiped them on his napkin, looking tense. What was up? She reached out and flipped his shaggy hair from in front of those blue eyes. The man always needed a haircut. Another part of his charm.
“I, uh, wasn’t really planning on coming Friday night.”
Oh, hell no. “You are truly kidding me, Jake. You’ve got to know what that award means to us, to our research, if someone…you know, someone on our team…were to win it.” She didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but she’d hocked a lot of political capital lobbying for him to win the Belden Award. The prize for outstanding young scientist was a big deal to the university too, since all the major research schools from across the country were invited to submit candidates. Jeez, it’d never occurred to her that he’d just bow out of the ceremony. “Really, Jake, it’s important.”
He glanced at her, and then his pasta got interesting again.
“Okay, I’ll come.”
“Jesus, could you be more enthusiastic? You need to come, Jake. And you’ll bring your girlfriend, right? I want to meet her, and it will show the faculty council what a lovely, settled, family person you are. At least one of us isn’t a confirmed bachelor.”
He clenched his jaw and forced words out between his teeth. “Em, I’ll come to the banquet, but I haven’t got a girlfriend. And I sure as fuck can’t show the faculty council my happy family life.”
The girlfriend was gone? “What happened? You told me you just moved in with her.” Damn, she really didn’t want to screw with his life. “Jesus, Jake, is it because I’m working you to death? I’ll talk to her. Give you more time off.”
He held a hand to her lips. “Easy, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I haven’t told you the truth, but I just…crap, I don’t know. I should have told you a long time ago. I just wasn’t sure it would work, it was such a long shot.”
What in hell was he talking about?
She got the first direct stare since they sat down. “Em, I can’t bring my girlfriend to the award dinner…because she’s my boyfriend. The person I moved in with is a man.” He sat back, still gazing at her steadily, challengingly.
Every nerve ending went hot. Then cold. What the fuck?
“And for the record, I never said I moved in with my girlfriend. I said I moved in with my lover, and you did the rest. I’m sorry.”
She knew her mouth was hanging open. Jake, gay? Her fantasy lover? She didn’t know how to feel. As a kid in the commune, she and her mom had practically collected gay friends. How could she have missed it?
Jesus, she was shaking. She didn’t want him to think she was horrified. She wasn’t. Just shocked and…what? Disappointed? Now there was no chance for her.
“Jesus, Jake, I know I can be self-absorbed, but I didn’t know I was blind.” Okay, she had to get a grip. People were looking their way. She lowered her voice. “How could it never have crossed my mind that you’re gay? How could I have missed it so completely in almost two years of working together?”
“Em, I’m really sorry.”
He was sorry. Shit! “You didn’t think you could tell me? Did you imagine it would matter to me?”
He grabbed her hands and squeezed them. “No! Of course I didn’t think you’d care. I didn’t tell you I’m gay because, well, I’m not. Or wasn’t. I’ve mostly been with women. You know; you’ve seen me with enough of them. I’d only been with one other man in my life when I met Roan. We met less than a year ago at the genetics conference I attended with you.”
“That’s why you were acting so strangely at the conference?” She remembered how edgy and distracted he’d been.
“Yeah. I was face-to-face with my sexuality and with the best thing I’d ever seen.”
That put a little rip in her heart.
Releasing her hands, he gripped his own together. “But it was such an unlikely match, and the chances we’d stay together were so small, I didn’t want to tell you and then split up with him.” He sighed and shrugged at the same time. “But the truth is, I fell in love with the guy, and even though it amazes me every day, he loves me back. So I’m gay.” Grin. “At least operationally.”
Trying to get a grip here. “Roan?”
“Yeah, that’s his name. And I really do want you to meet him; planned on it in fact.” He touched her hand, gently stroking his fingers over her palm, and she just couldn’t pull away. “You both mean so much to me. I want you to love each other too.”
Maybe it would be easier to like a man Jake loved more than it would a woman. Maybe she could beat back the jealousy, knowing he was more interested in men. Fuck, she’d have to.
He sat back. “But I don’t think the faculty award dinner is the place. I don’t want to hide my relationship exactly. My family knows, and they’re great about it, but hell, you know the faculty council and the administration, especially Kovak.”
“Our own private Inquisitor?”
“Yeah. The faculty council will never say they’re firing me because I’m gay. They’ll make up another reason. I just don’t want to rub their faces in it. If they find out some other way, fine.”
She took another deep breath, just trying to cope. “You know, there are several gay men on the faculty. Professor Montag makes jelly beans look colorless, and some others probably cross-dress in their spare time.”
“Yeah, but they stay in the closet. Don’t ask; don’t tell. Plus, they were here before Kovak, so he kind of ignores them.”
“So just bring your, uh…Roan and let them guess. Maybe he’s just a friend or something.”
“He’s a little too noticeable.”
“What? A drag queen?”
He grinned. “No, you’ll see when you meet him.”
One thing was clear. “You have to come to the banquet. Do you get that? And if this man is the one you love, I think he should be there too. Am I making myself clear?”
He laughed. “Yes, Mother.”
“Hey, why don’t you and Roan escort me to the bloody banquet? Then no one will know who’s with whom. We can say he’s a friend of both of ours. You’ll both be my dates. I get to meet him, and he gets to be there for you.”
“I thought you were coming with Henry.”
“Not nearly often enough.” He snorted Chianti. Okay, bad joke, but then Henry was a pretty bad lover. “Anyway, as chance would have it, I haven’t invited him yet, so I’m free to be your diversion.”
“You’re a diversion only in the best possible way.” His face lit up with enthusiasm. “But actually it’s perfect. You’ll come home with us after the banquet and spend the weekend. I’ve been planning to invite you out for weeks, but we’ve been so busy at the lab. So come this weekend. Then you can get to know Roan and see the new house at the same time. You get me where you want me, and” — he chuckled — “I get you where I want you.”
She gazed at the beautiful face. He’d taken off his glasses so nothing distracted from those crystal blue eyes. How often had she fantasized about spending time with him? Sadly, those fantasies had never involved a gay lover. But bottom line, he had to come to the banquet, and a weekend in Connecticut sounded like fun even in the company of two gay men. Of course, the faculty council sure as hell wouldn’t agree with her. They would puke if they knew Doctor Emmaline Silvay, lead researcher and hope for all great international genetics prizes, was consorting with her twenty-six-year-old assistant. Gay assistant. She felt her mom’s rebel blood rise in her veins.
“What time will you pick me up, and what kind of clothes should I pack?”
Tara Lain, like so many novelists, wrote her first book at five. Writing ability got her through college when there wasn’t enough time in the day, and, shortly thereafter, it became a marketable skill. Very early in life, people started paying her to write — scripts for industrial films, brochures, magazine articles on semiconductors. She became a really successful non-fiction “ghost-writer”.
Now, when you’re being paid well to write non-fiction, it’s tough to spend time writing fiction that nobody pays you for for a long time. But then Tara found EROM (erotic romance). Always a lover of fantasy, she got hooked on the beauty, emotion, and happily-ever-after of these books (to say nothing of the great sex) and was finally inspired to write one of her own. But writing fiction is REALLY different than non-fiction. There was so much to learn, and after writing her first book she went back to school (via online workshops) and really got down to learning the craft. A year later, she had rewritten that book, and created another one, and a very supportive publisher said yes! Today, she’s off and running as a passionate writer of erotic fiction.
Married to a her soul mate, a wonderful man who surprises her every day, Tara continues to love semiconductors and software and medical devices — all with a little touch of romance. She’s also an artist in her spare time (LOL) working in oil and mixed media collage.
Tara would love to:hear from you.
When Selena and I were putting together BDSM week, the first person we knew we’d invite is someone we’re both very close to. In fact, it wouldn’t be BDSM week to either of us unless Lena Austin was here too. For us, she’s both our Mistress and our mentor in all things erotic. For me personally, she’s the one person who really helped me to free my inner BDSM authorship and bring it out last year. Without her, I’d not be who I am now. So, it’s with great pleasure and humility that I have her present today’s topic- dealing with bad research in BDSM books and more. I could think of anyone else who could make this topic both amusing and truly insightful. Thank you, Mistress Lena for doing this for us. Read the rest of this entry »