Blog Tour: Guest Blogger, Victoria Blisse

I’m happy to host Victoria Blisse today for her blog tour promoting her erotic novella, Sharing Nicely. The excerpt is very hot! I’m looking forward to reading the book! -LL

sharingnicely

The Men behind the Money.

As I’m promoting Sharing Nicely, I’m talking a lot about two hot, sexy Billionaires. It captures the attention I suppose but in this blog I want you to see the men behind all that money.  Let me introduce you to Greg Stamford and Darren Bennett.

Greg Stamford is the owner of Stamford Telecoms.  It’s a multi-million pound mobile phone company which cover everything from apps to the mobile network itself.  Greg works as CEO and spends most of the time at work, working and being a complete workaholic.

He’s also a really good cook, has a wicked sense of humour and enjoys cleaning and tidying up. Greg is not a man to mess with but when he smiles it lights up the Room.

Darren Bennett is the Head of Bear Enterprises and his company specialises in computer games and mobile phone apps. His apps are in direct competition with Gregs. Darren is originally from Liverpool and even though he now lives in London his Scouse accent still shines through. He’s a cheeky chappy who likes to wear novelty ties and loves being the centre of attention. He knows how to pull a pint and is fiercely loyal. He knows how to romance a woman and loves to shower Kerry with expensive gifts.

Which Billionaire do you fancy? Kerry likes both, but which one will she choose?

*****

Excerpt:

“So, are you two ready?” he asked. “I’ll get Chester to bring the limo round.”

“We can go in mine,” Darren snapped.

“Oh, don’t start this again.” I shook my head. “Decide nicely or I’ll be getting the damn Tube home.”

If the billionaires could be so abrupt with me, I’d be snappy with them.

“Fine,” Darren shrugged, “but we’re going back to my hotel.”

“Where are you staying?”

While the boys argued amongst themselves I took the date book and locked it away in my desk. I’d filled up a lot of the year and some dates had drifted into the next one. With the business I’d secured I was guaranteed to finish the fiscal year pleasantly in profit. I might even be able to afford a holiday. If I could persuade myself to stay away from Diamonds long enough.

When I walked back over to them the boys were silent.

“So, are we actually ready now?”

Greg reacted first, slipping his arm into mine and smiling.

“Yes, it seems me and Darren are staying at the same hotel.”

“Wonderful,” I smiled, intensely relieved. “Lead the way.”

Darren took hold of my other arm and we strode out together. I wasn’t expecting the barrage of flashing lights and yelled questions that greeted us. I supposed I had been a little naïve. The boys, with the aid of some huge security guards, pushed past the demands and we scooted into the back of a shiny black limousine. The mellow scent of leather filled the interior. Everything sparkled. I felt like we were in a separate car to the driver who was way, way down at the front.

“Are we going to the hotel, sir?” a polite voice asked. It sounded like it came from behind me, which was puzzling until I realised there was some kind of intercom device. Greg reached to the side of the limo and pressed a button.

“Yes, please, Chester.”

I would have liked more space to actually enjoy the ride home but I was crowded by two competing men and so spent my time flipping my gaze from one to the other, answering questions. Both were squeezed up close to me and both seemed determined to seduce me. I found that mind-spinningly crazy.

“What perfume are you wearing?” Darren ducked his head to sniff at my neck. I was very aware of his lips hovering just above my pulse point. I wished he’d kiss me there.

“Oh, I don’t know. Something fruity.” My mind went completely blank.

“You smell good enough to eat.” Darren continued and his lips did touch my skin but only for the briefest second. My whole body tightened at the gentle kiss.

“Your dress is beautiful.” It seemed Greg was not to be outdone—in fact he boldly ran his hand down my body from my shoulder, over my breast and lower. “I love the feel of velvet.”

“Thank you,” I squeaked then cleared my throat. “Thanks, I love velvet too.”

Tension zinged through me, sexual and otherwise. These two guys who I’d only just met were making me into a battlefield. They were warring to control me.

I wasn’t a woman who enjoyed being mollycoddled. I took decisions, I dived into situations and I expected all of my staff to be respectful to both men and women. I’d reprimanded several for sexism and would go as far as to sack someone if they didn’t change their ways. I should have been appalled by the situation—I wasn’t just a trophy or a business contract. I should have kicked up a fuss and left then and there.

But I didn’t. I liked being the centre of attention. I liked being the prize they both wanted.

I waited for the next move but we pulled up outside the hotel so I had to wait until we exited the car. Again, both men linked arms with me. It was cold outside but apart from the cool breeze on my cheeks I barely felt it because their hard bodies protected me from the elements.

They whisked me across the marble frontage, past the liveried doorman and into a huge reception area. It glittered with prestige and marble. Everything was perfect, neat and tidy. There was nothing overly ornate or showy but you could tell by the purposeful minimalism that this was a very classy place. The kind of place I’d only ever imagined visiting.

We moved across the hall into the bar. Again it was big, shiny but understated. The bar was long and all the staff behind it were in immaculately cut uniforms. They all looked smart and tidy and I looked on with envy. I wished I could get my own staff to look so impressive.

“What would you like to drink?” Darren asked and smirked at Greg.

“I’d love a glass of water, really,” I replied, “I’m so thirsty.”

“I’ll get them to send over some water too, but should we have some champagne? It was a very good night for us all after all.”

Both Darren and Greg had won awards and I was sure they’d both made several deals too as they played the room.

“Yes, why not?” Greg answered before me. “Champagne sounds good.”

When Darren moved away Greg turned to me.

“Look, Kerry, I really would love to spend the night with you but it is killing me to be nice to him.”

“This is you being nice?”

“Exactly.” He almost smiled. I found it surprisingly endearing. “Please can we dump the other guy?”

“No.” I was very firm, it surprised even me. “No, I said I wanted to spend time with you both, so that is what’s going to happen. If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

“God, woman. You’re infuriatingly stubborn.” He growled.

“Now that is a case of the pot calling the kettle black.” I laughed.

Greg sighed. “I’m not used to being told what to do, Kerry. I’m the one in control.”

“I’d noticed, but if you want me, you play by my rules.” It was fun playing him at his own game.

“Oh, I want you.” His growl turned to a gravelly purr. It wasn’t cute, it was the noise of a killer beast merely at rest. Any moment he could pounce and rip me apart. It turned me on. I wriggled in my seat and my damp knickers chafed against my plump lips.

“Then you’ll share nicely.” I leaned in and kissed him. He was shocked, almost as much as I was. His lips were hard and ungiving for a moment—I thought maybe I’d pushed him too far—but then they melted, opened and pushed back and I felt his pent-up arousal running into me. I released my frustrated desire with every move of my lips.

We pulled apart and I had to pant to regain my breath while he licked his lips like he was savouring the taste.

“I’ll do it for you,” he said. I was intoxicated with the power of having him under my control.

“Hey, I want one too.” Darren came back, placed a glass of water before me and pressed his lips to mine. His were plump and giving. He prodded his tongue between my lips, into my mouth, taking control of the kiss and control of me. I felt like I might explode into a million pieces. I hadn’t been kissed in months and now I’d had two smoking hot smooches in as many minutes from two very hot but very different men.

“Okay,” I gasped when he pulled away, “now you’re even.”

The guys glowered at each other. I looked around the room to calm my nerves. Not a single person looked at us. Obviously such things happened often in bars of high-class hotels. It didn’t happen often to me. At all, in fact. I wondered if I was dreaming. I pinched my thigh below the table. It hurt. I definitely wasn’t dreaming.

A tall, skinny waiter brought us a bottle of champagne stood in a silver ice bucket. Balanced on his tray were three tall flutes. He transferred everything to our table with great pomp. I was in awe of his skill.

“Thank you,” I called. He nodded his head politely and walked off.

I knew a little about wine and champagne, only because my barman told me what I needed to order. The champagne in the bucket was clearly expensive—I’d never even heard of the name—and it was suitably French, obviously. I was sure Darren had ordered the most expensive in the place just to outdo Greg. I outdid both of them by just sipping at my water.

“Shall we take the rest of the bottle to my room?”

I nearly choked when I heard what Greg had said.

“Pardon?”

“Well, you wanted us to share nicely and I don’t think that even in an establishment like this where confidentiality is taken seriously we could share you, nicely or otherwise, right here in the bar.”

It took a moment to register that Greg Stamford, billionaire high-flyer and serious hottie, was propositioning me for a threesome. I’d agreed to it earlier, but it still seemed too much like a fairy tale to be actually real.

“I agree, mate. We’d get chucked out. Want to go to my room? It’s the Ambassador Suite.” Darren announced this like I should be impressed. Maybe it was the most expensive room in the hotel? I wasn’t sure.

“My room has the best view over the city,” Greg snapped.

“Yes, that’s what they tell people who can’t get in the Ambassador Suite.”

“Boys, stop it.” My voice was quite loud. The low murmur of conversation stopped for a moment, then carried on.

“Look. You are both very rich, I get it. You both want to be top dog, I get that too, but would you stop bickering like bloody schoolboys, okay? I am very flattered, truly, and I never in a million years would have imagined being in this situation…” I left the sentence hanging and gathered my thoughts.

“Please don’t say no.” Darren’s smile dissipated. “I’m sorry.”

“Well—” I tried to continue with my tirade. I had the moral high ground. I was going to say thanks but no thanks and leave both gentleman hanging, but say that I hoped they’d both still honour their bookings. I was going to make a stand, I really was. Then… Well, I’m not quite sure what happened.

“I’m sorry too,” Greg added. “We’re just billionaires used to getting our own way. Let’s go to the Ambassador Suite, it’s a lovely room.”

Had I heard that right? Had Greg Stamford apologised and ceded to his most hated rival?

“Yes, let’s,” Darren nodded. “Please, Kerry?”

I challenge any woman alive to not cave in when hit with not one but two sets of puppy dog eyes from intensely handsome men. I couldn’t do it.

“Come on then,” I whispered, “lead the way.”

*****

Two hot, sexy billionaires know what they want and they want her, but will they be happy to share nicely?

Kerry Matthews is used to stress—she runs her own high-end London club called Diamonds, but what she isn’t used to is attention from two very persuasive and powerful men.

Darren Bennett and Greg Stamford are life-long rivals, but call a truce to spend one night with sassy, curvy Kerry. They’re not content to share forever though. They both have a selfish desire to possess her completely.

Darren buys her seductive lingerie, flowers and chocolates, Greg flies her to Paris for a romantic break, cleans her flat and makes her breakfast in bed. Both vying to cement their place in her heart. She needs to decide between them but is dazzled by their persuasive personas and extravagant gifts.

Reader Advisory: This book contains a scene of MFM Ménage and some violence.

Available from: http://victoriablisse.co.uk/books/sharing-nicely

*****

VictoriaBlisse

Bio:

Victoria Blisse is a Mother, Wife, Christian, Manchester United Fan and Award Winning Erotica Authoress. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut Alfresco and Smut in the City and Smut by the Sea Anthologies.

Victoria is also one of the brains behind the fabulous Smut by the Sea Event taking place at Scarborough Library (UK) on the 22nd June 2013. A day dedicated to Erotica with a mini erotic marketplace and lots of Author Readings, Fun Giveaways and Exciting Talks.

She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker (She is TEB’s Resident “Naked Chef”) and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories.

Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

You can find often find Victoria procrastinating on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.

To find out more check out http://victoriablisse.co.uk

WMS_blogtour

The Big Book of Orgasms

There is so much going on for today’s post I hardly know where to begin. I’m proud to announce that my first inclusion in a print anthology has been in Cleis Press’s recent release, The Big Book of Orgasms: 69 Sexy Stories, edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel. Since I began writing, I have been independently publishing straight to eBook, so this is a big first step for me into the world of “big girl publishing.”

Somewhat Related Teaser: I have another story in an unrelated print anthology, coming soon through another publisher, but I can’t talk details yet. 😉 I can say that fans of my work and of femdom BDSM will be very pleased, though!

Today I’ve got an interview with Rachel, an excerpt from my story, and a giveaway. I don’t know how much more you could possibly want out of one blog post! And just look at this cover. I’m getting hot just looking at it.

41kS9MRsuDL._SY300_

Interview:

Hi Rachel! Thanks so much for the interview. How did you start out as a writer, and what led to your transition to editing?

I’ve always written, since I was little, in one form or another. My earliest published writings were letters to the editor. I started writing erotica in 1999 at the tail end of attending law school. I got into editing erotica based on writing it; I was first asked to co-edit an anthology and then from there to edit my own and now get to pitch brainstorm and pitch my own ideas for anthologies that focus on topics I’m interested in, such as spanking. I like doing both because writing is so solitary and involves being so utterly in my head, and even though I also do my editing alone at my computer, it involves interacting with other people and discovering and getting to publish writing I never in a million years could have written myself.

I’m really excited about the release of The Big Book of Orgasms: 69 Sexy Stories. What was the inspiration for this anthology?

It was sort of a mashup of two other books I’d edited that readers liked, Orgasmic, which features 25 stories featuring female protagonists and Gotta Have It, which also features 69 short stories of 1,200 words or less. That book was a new format, smaller and more compact, so I and Cleis Press thought it would be interesting to combine them, but this time expand beyond just female orgasms and female authors. I like having the opportunity to work with three times as many authors as I do in a typical anthology. It also made me value each and every word, since the stories are all short, those words have to do a lot more work to create a full story with a beginning, middle and end and still be arousing and on the theme of orgasm. I also love the variety of writing styles and characters and settings and orgasms and creativity, as well as hearing which stories resonate with which readers. There are some very loving tender stories and some extremely kinky ones, there’s heterosexual, bisexual, lesbian, gay, transgender, and I’m not even sure how to classify the gender change in “Remote Control” by Logan Zachary.

Will there be book readings/signings, and when/where?

There will be a San Francisco reading (https://www.facebook.com/events/186231794893318/) on November 6th at Good Vibrations at 1620 Polk Street at 6:30, with me and 9 contributors, Lily K. Cho, Malin James, Crystal Jordan, Sinclair Sexsmith, Donna George Storey, B.D. Swain, Virgie Tovar, Jade A. Waters and Xan West , and one in New York on January 3 at reading series Between the Covers (http://betweenthecoversnyc.wordpress.com/) at the Museum of Sex at 233 Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, with me, yourself, Andreas Amsterdam, Jeremy Edwards, Drew Griffiths, Thea Landen, Lillian Ann Slugocki, Suleikha Snyder and possibly a few others. [Yes, I’ll be reading live in New York City! If you’ve been wanting to meet me, this is the time and place to do it! -LL] That’s all as of right now, though I’m looking for a way to host a virtual book party and if I can round up enough authors I’d love to do another reading. I’ll also be teaching erotic writing workshops in the next few months in Albuquerque, Austin, Portland, Maine and New York, and workshops March 14th for CatalystCon (http://catalystcon.com/register/pre-con/ ) attendees.

Do you think you’ll always be an erotica writer? Are there other genres in which you’re interested?

I’ve always told myself that if I get bored writing erotica I’ll quit, but that hasn’t happened yet. Sometimes I write more or less erotica, but I always come back to it and love the moment of insight when a new story idea comes to me. I do hope to write a young adult novel and possibly branch out, but as of now erotica and erotic romance are the only fiction I’ve written, though I also do a lot of essays and journalism, which I think helps balance me.

I get this question myself a lot. Do you have any advice for aspiring erotica writers?

Write in a style that’s true to you about characters and topics you’re interested in. Be aware of but don’t pander to the market. Everyone’s sexuality is different and the more you can tease out your own voice and style and passion, the more that will come through in the writing. I’d also encourage people to utilize any specialized knowledge they have about the world and find a way to incorporate that into your erotica. For instance, I’ve played in a lot of chess tournaments, so I’ve used that as a setting for an erotica story. Use as much sensory detail as you can, without giving just a literal play by play, and use all five senses. Make the reader care about the characters not just when they’re having sex, but before and after; that will make the sex scenes more rewarding, powerful and memorable.

Is there anything special you do to celebrate once a project is finished, be it a story, novel, or anthology?

I don’t do anything special per se, but I am always very relieved when I hit send on a story submission or an anthology manuscript. Then I’m usually on to the next thing.

“Write drunk, edit sober.” True or false?

Save for extremely rare occasions, I don’t drink, so I don’t write drunk. Though there are definitely times when I’m in a bit of a writing trance, because I’ll later look at a story I’ve written and wonder where it came from and how I wrote it.

I think it’s like that for any kind of artist, despite the medium. I’ve experienced it myself countless times. I think there’s a reason why the ancient Greeks believed in Muses, and that “trance” is it. Anyway, final question. What was it like writing for Penthouse Variations?

I was an editor for over 7 years at Penthouse Variations. That was my first magazine job and it taught me so much about being a careful and sometimes ruthless editor, about how to gloss a topic and do it justice, and about the variety of fetishes and kinks out there.

Excerpt from “Icing on the Cake,” by Lula Lisbon, one of 69 stories in The Big Book of Orgasms:

I knew she had something devilish planned, but I couldn’t imagine what it might be. It was my birthday, and she’d baked me cupcakes; I was to report to her on my knees at her door as per usual. She loved to toy with my orgasms, denying them, forcing them, coming up with any number of ways to make them humiliating for me and exciting for her. For two full weeks she’d denied me release, and it had been hard—very hard. Teasing me, testing me, she’d sent me pictures of her body, described in detail what she wanted to do to me, how she wanted me to please her. I wasn’t allowed to touch my cock, because she wanted me ready to celebrate my birthday.

I’d unintentionally disobeyed her around the one-week mark. In a vivid dream, she fucked my ass hard with her purple strap-on, something she only did as a reward when I’d been very good. Her fingernails dug into my hips, and when I felt her starting to come inside me, screaming her delight, I couldn’t hold myself back.

When I opened my eyes, still feeling the delicious pulsing in my balls, there was a pool of creamy come on my abs and chest. My heart sank. I wanted to call her and immediately confess, but I already knew what her orders would be. Filled with guilt, I dipped my fingers in, a kid stealing a taste from the mixing bowl, once, twice, again, until it was all gone.

Giveaway:

Enter to win a free copy of The Big Book of Orgasms by posting one of your favorite lines from one of my short stories (not from the excerpts online, that’s cheating!) into the comments section. Hint: I have one free story, so purchase isn’t required, but I have lots of other stories from which to choose, starting at only $2.99, if you’d like to support an independent author! Fine print: Cleis Press will have final say over the winner and distribution of prizes. Retail value of prize: Kindle version $9.99, print version $12.34. Deadline: November 30, 2013.

Guest Blogger: Annabeth Leong

runforyourlove

Are You Feeling It? by Annabeth Leong

Thanks so much for hosting me today!

When I learned about sex growing up, a lot of what I was taught focused on the male experience. I was told that men would say anything to get laid—their hormones would take control and they would claim that it physically hurt to be denied. On the other hand, I saw plenty of magazine covers promising to teach how to please my man.

What was missing from both of these narratives was that neither one suggested that sex might be an experience centered in myself. No one warned me that when I started making out with people I might have trouble holding myself back. I’d heard plenty about how to fight off a horny guy, but nothing about what to do if I was mindlessly horny myself. I also didn’t learn about pleasing myself when with someone else, or about asking someone else to please me. For many, many years, male orgasm marked the ending of sex for me—even if I wasn’t finished yet.

I give this bit of personal history because the heroine in my new erotic romance, Run for Your Love, is in the process of busting through these limiting perceptions. Viola is discovering that there’s another way to have sex—a way that pleases her and expresses and recognizes her own desires. She’s learning that when a guy asks, “Are you feeling it?” she doesn’t have to automatically say that she is.

I plot my stories pretty tightly, but many times the mood of the sex that the characters are having winds up surprising me. In Run for Your Love, Zach and Viola both come off a bit innocent. Together, they’re discovering how sex can be when a real connection is formed. Each of them learns how to seek their own pleasure and share that with each other.

Many times, I find my political or feminist beliefs working their way into my work (though I always hope that adds to the sexy fun rather than detracting from it). My life changed when I learned that my sexuality if my own, and that I choose to share it with my partners. It changed when I learned that when I have sex, I will get turned on myself rather than be a passive recipient, and that it’s okay for me to want to do what feels good to me. I am still in the process of releasing myself from the idea of sex as work—something I do to make the other person come, and that I’ve failed at if I haven’t achieved that goal.

I was thrilled by Zach and Viola’s discoveries with each other. It exhilarated me to write about a woman whose sexuality is flowering. For Viola, it takes the zombie apocalypse to make this happen. She needs extreme situations to break out of the prison she’s been living in. My subconscious may have used that to express how difficult I found it to claim my sex life, but my fervent wish is that this will become much easier for women. I would love for the common sexual narratives to include the perspective of female pleasure—the things that Viola is just uncovering.

Excerpt:

I’d never come with a guy inside me before. Mostly because every guy until Zach seemed to assume the magic of his dick alone would get me there. When the orgasmic spasms started up, I felt him there at the very center of me while my muscles squeezed around him, and it kind of blew my mind. I never thought it would feel so good to have that hard length resisting me, pushing back against the tingling sensations so that they spread out and bounced to new places inside me.

I didn’t even worry about how I looked to him. If he had a problem with that, he would have said something already. I held myself up as best as I could, ignoring the throb of my arm in favor of the throb of my clit. Every part of me that touched any part of him tingled.

When it passed, I realized I’d been staring into Zach’s eyes the whole time, and he lay under me smiling as if he was genuinely happy for me. I realized how long it had been since I’d really moved, and apologized, remembering how much other guys had hated when I forgot to keep thrusting.

“Don’t apologize,” Zach said. He didn’t seem impatient at all. Instead, his voice sounded thick, weighted with lust that, for once, I reciprocated. “I think that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

His fingers still rested on my most sensitive places, but he’d stopped rubbing without needing to be told they’d be too tender at the moment. I blinked, amazed by how much he seemed to understand.

“What can I do for you?” I asked. I meant it too. The offer came out spontaneously, not because I needed to keep him happy but because I wanted to share his desires the way he’d shared mine. “How do you like it?”

Zach moaned. “I like it with you,” he said. “You make it feel so…sexy.”

“Well, it is sex.”

“You know how it can be awkward.”

I blinked. Maybe I didn’t know that, not quite. I did know how it could be fake. I wondered if everyone’s got something they usually hold back or worry about while they’re in bed with someone else. Not having to do that with Zach exhilarated me, especially now that I suspected the feeling was mutual. A flicker of fear rose up along with that joy, and I pushed it aside. Later, we could worry about what it all meant.

I took both his hands and eased them away from my body, coming to rest on his chest instead. “Show me what you want me to do.”

Blurb:

Shotguns seem to be everyone’s favorite accessory for the zombie apocalypse, but Zach Paul believes he can survive without hurting anyone—not even the zombies. An elite-level runner, he plans to speed away from every danger. Then Zach meets a woman he can’t bring himself to leave behind, and staying beside her tests all his principles.

Viola Ortiz fought free of her controlling boyfriend just before the zombies came, but now she believes her macho ex is the only one who can protect her. She sets out to reunite with him, only to encounter Zach instead. The tall, lean runner is everything her ex is not, and Viola is shocked to find he turns her on as no man has before. Viola’s ex, however, isn’t willing to let go of her, and soon it’s clear that other survivors are as dangerous as the zombies.

Zach and Viola can run, but they must find safety before they lose their humanity in the struggle to protect their lives and growing love.

Buy Links:

All Romance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-runforyourlove-1315996-340.html?referrer=6bdb1f9160564c0525b41f36e51861a0

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00FS6MX6K/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B00FS6MX6K&linkCode=as2&tag=lucyfelthouse-21

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00FS6MX6K/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B00FS6MX6K&linkCode=as2&tag=lucyfelt-20

Breathless Press: http://www.breathlesspress.com/index.php?main_page=product_free_shipping_info&cPath=13&products_id=493&zenid=6f219fb8a467b51c18d4d8e998caa03a

Bio:

Annabeth Leong has written romance and erotica of many flavors — dark, kinky, vanilla, straight, lesbian, bi, and menage. Her titles for Breathless Press include the contemporary werewolf erotic romances Not His Territory and Not the Leader of the Pack, and Run for Your Love, a romance set in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. She lives in Providence, Rhode Island, blogs at annabethleong.blogspot.com, and tweets @AnnabethLeong

Buy One, Get One Free Offer:

Did you miss Annabeth’s previous titles with Breathless Press? Not to worry. E-mail proof of purchase of Run for Your Love, such as an Amazon receipt, to annabeth dot leong at gmail dot com and let her know your e-book format of choice. Annabeth will buy a copy of her werewolf novella, Not His Territory, for anyone who sends this information before November 12, 2013.

Halloween special!

If you send your proof of purchase on Halloween, I’ll throw in a couple extra spooky surprises!WMS_blogtour

NEW RELEASE: Diaries of a Dirty Dancer #2, Foot Fetish Lapdance

DoaDD2-3

BLURB: Three years as an exotic dancer left author Lula Lisbon with a head full of steamy stories! In this semi-autobiographical entry of Dirty Diaries, Lula has a shy customer named Jay who’s always dreamt of worshipping a dominant woman’s feet, but previous girlfriends had only been disgusted by his fetish. He’s never had the chance to live his fantasy, until Lula takes full advantage of the situation.

EXCERPT:

“Hmm?” I demanded, pinching the point of his chin to bring his attention back to me. I couldn’t make out the whispered answer. “I can’t hear you!”

“I want to kiss your feet,” he repeated. The blush was deeper on his cheeks, his whole body a disclaimer of his abject humiliation. I smiled, a shark circling its prey.

“What else?”

“I want to kiss them… lick them… suck your beautiful toes, feel them on my face, my chest, my—” he stopped himself.

“Your co**?” I provided helpfully. He plucked at his sleeve once more, saying nothing. His discomfort, strangely enough, both melted me and turned me on. I wanted to change that about him, to make him revel in his desire instead of fear it.
“Get on your knees,” I ordered. “Unstrap my heels and place them neatly to the side. If you’re good, you might just get what you want so badly.”

His eyes jumped to mine, wondering, questioning. He read only cool intent in my face, none of the disdain he seemed to expect; and with that, he visibly relaxed. He dropped into a kneel, bending his head over my ankles as he reverently undid the tiny buckles and slid each elegant size 7 off — first one, then the other, leaving me in just my sheer black stockings. He rubbed one crimson-polished toenail through the fine nylon with his thumb, hips jerking almost imperceptibly, but I was watching for it.

The perspiration had evaporated from my skin by this point, but my stockings were still damp. I wanted to see how far I could take the scene, and I was determined to test his limits. When he started to massage my foot, though, I was surprised at how good it felt, especially at the end of a long shift. Momentarily distracted, I moaned a little, sinking deeper into the couch. He squirmed, glancing up at my face, and his fingers paused in their movements.

“Don’t stop, it feels amazing.” Jay smiled a little, resuming the massage and tracing the high arch of my foot with the balls of his thumbs, then with his knuckles. As he worked, I ran my other stockinged foot along his arm, down his side, and across his lap. I could feel the thick bulge of his hard-on through his slacks, and made a purr of pleasure. “Looks like you think so too. You feel so scrumptious underneath my toes.” He moaned when I wiggled them against his cock, but my foot only lingered there for a few seconds before I took it away again. “I’ve been working hard all night,” I said conversationally. “I’m still sweaty, including my feet.” I put my foot on his cheek, and he flinched away. “What, suddenly you’re turned off? I can’t really believe that. Don’t lie to me. I know you’re into it.”

Jay closed his eyes, reluctantly surrendering, but leaning hard into the sole of my foot. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I’m just so used to pretending that I — well, never mind. I love the smell, especially after she’s had a long day.” He adjusted himself in his pants, and I saw that his bulge had grown. “I can’t help it, your pheromones drive me crazy.” I traced his lips with my toe, working my way into his mouth. His tongue flicked against my skin and I drew in a sharp breath.

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Kobo

Rainbow eBooks

Smashwords

New Release: Cinderella: A BDSM Retelling

cinderellabdsm-3

I’ve been a busy little smutbeaver, indeed! I’ve been working on this story for quite some time, and it’s been demanding to grow bigger and bigger than I ever expected. Originally envisioned at about 15,000 words, it is over 21,000 words! My first novella and my longest work to date. I’m very happy with it. Fans of femdom, sissification, feminization, fantasy erotica, magical strap-ons, and amusing Fairy Kink Mothers will enjoy this one.

Cinderella: A BDSM Retelling is now available at Smashwords, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Rainbow eBooks, and soon available on Sony, Diesel, and iTunes.

BLURB:

Dominas Arabelle and Druscilla Ravyn’s talented apprentice, Cinderella, wants to become a Mistress, but the cruel stepsisters thwart her at every turn. When famous rock star Kink-Bottom Prince is seeking a new Mistress from all those in the City, poor Cinderella doesn’t think she stands a chance. But a kind Fairy Kink Mother magically appears to help Cinderella win her Prince’s collar — and heart.

This 21,000+ word erotic novella contains menage, femdom, a submissive rock star getting fucked in front of his fans, spanking, whipping, magical strap-ons that come to life, pegging, face-sitting, forced feminization and sissification, a self-satisfied Fairy Kink Mother, squirting, fisting, exhibitionism, comedy relief, and much more!

EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT:

“Stand up, let me look at you,” the Fairy said in a no-nonsense yet kindly tone. She circled Cinderella with the critical hawk’s eye of an exclusive haute couture designer, tapping one front tooth with an immaculately manicured fingernail in thought. “Hmm… yes, I believe I have just the thing in mind. We’ll take care of everything all at once. Close your eyes, now.” The Fairy Kink Mother pulled a handful of something out of her bag and blew it gently over Cinderella’s head. A shower of what felt like the softest down feathers swirled around her, caressing every curve of her nude body. When at last the dancing zephyr of feathers stopped, Fairy Kink Mother bade her open her eyes. Cinderella gasped. The pain from her beating was gone, and her skin was now covered in living, gleaming gold that sparkled and shone with even the slightest movement.

“Some Fairy Kink Mothers might let you go just like that, because admittedly you are magnificent as you are. But I didn’t win the prestigious honor of Fairy Kink Mother of the Year six years running from doing only the bare minimum… if you’ll pardon the pun!” She laughed at her own witticism, but Cinderella was too overwhelmed to say a word.

“Oh, my stars, I nearly forgot the most important part!” Again she reached into the ridiculously tiny bag and started to pull out golden straps attached to something. As with the other things, it seemed to start out doll-sized, and then grew to full size bit by bit as she pulled it out. The strangeness of this magic almost made Cinderella dizzy to behold. Now she saw that it was a strap-on harness, with an amazingly life-like cock complete with smooth balls attached. It all gleamed as golden as Cinderella’s skin did now, who accepted the Fairy’s proffered arm as she helped the girl step into the harness. It seemed to tighten by itself to fit Cinderella perfectly, and Fairy Kink Mother beamed with excitement.

“This isn’t any ordinary strap-on, my dear. Oh, no, no! This is so very special, and if I do say so myself, it may just be my most brilliant creation to date!” She caressed the shaft of the cock with one hand, and Cinderella had to bite back a moan of pleasure. She was shocked to realize that it felt as natural and as much a true part of her as if it were her own cock from birth! Just that one simple stroke from Kink Mother’s hand had been deliciously intriguing. “Ah, thus, now you see… when it is worn by you — and only you, I might add, as the magic is limited to one client — it will feel and react as if it were your own natural cock. Because, you see, with the magic, it truly is!” Fairy Kink Mother chortled with delight, clapping her hands like a little girl. “It’s a brilliant creation, isn’t it? Go on, touch it, see for yourself!”

Cinderella reached down to delicately caress the golden cock. It was flaccid, and as warm as her own body to the touch; but when she wrapped her fingers lightly around it, it twitched, and she gasped in delight. Moving her hand, admiring the erotic scene it made to have a cock of her very own, it wasn’t long before it grew to throbbing and rock-hard in her fist. She could feel both her pussy, wet with desire, and the thick cock in her hand dripping with pre-cum. The sensation was dizzying. Fairy Kink Mother swiped at the wet cock-head with one slim fingertip, raised it to her lips, and licked it clean.

“Delicious,” she said, giving Cinderella a saucy wink. “Kink-Bottom Prince will not have eyes — or mouth — for anyone else, I promise you.” Cinderella tugged down the miniskirt over her cock, admiring the bulge it made through the sheer gold fabric.

A Fragment From My Journal

March 12, 2013

Unfortunately, there will be people, many people, who say they love you and then will utterly shatter your love and trust. They will probably be vindictive and hateful about it too, for no reason other than deep inside, they feel guilty about what they did to you.

Fortunately, you are not dead, and you don’t need these people in your life. If they once served you, they are now as dead as last summer’s flowers. They lit your life for a while, and are now dead.

Find new flowers.

Guest Blogger: Kyoko Church, author of Sapphic Secrets

Ms Lisbon! Thank you so much for having me on your super sexy blog today! I took a look around. I may have to ask you later for your pole dancing tips. I tried it some years ago and failed miserably! And we have a friend in common: Ms Carla Croft. What a sweetheart she is! Not to mention a saucy little minx with some red hot writing chops. 😉

So, wonderful to be here to wrap up my blog tour for Sapphic Secrets, Book Two in the Draper Estates Trilogy. For my final post I wanted to write about one of my most favourite topics when it comes to erotica and really sexuality in general, and that is tease and denial.

First of all: tease. It is defined thusly:

Tease

vt. Arouse feeling without giving satisfaction: to arouse hope, curiosity, or especially physical desire in somebody with no intention of giving satisfaction. 

Then there’s denial.

Denial

n. Refusal to allow somebody something. A refusal to grant something desired.

I find the combination of these two elements so alluring. So deliciously enticing. To arouse physical desire and then withhold it is ultimately about power. In some cases power is relinquished as a gift. In some it is simply taken. But to be locked at the mercy of one’s own body’s physical responses and have someone else hold the key to release is heady stuff. And it’s something I explore in every one of my novels and short stories.

It certainly figures heavily into Book One of the trilogy, Nymphomania, since Lillianne is bound for much of the book and at the mercy of the nefarious doctor, Phillip Samms who is intent on controlling her body’s responses. In Book Two, Sapphic Secrets, it is perhaps a little more insidious. Phillip and Lilly’s husband Ewan have planted the idea in her head that her desire is an illness and so Lilly herself wants to hold back from satisfying her craving. But sexual desire can be a powerful force.

Lillianne awoke with the now familiar aching throb between her legs.

            Oh! It seemed now there was never a moment’s respite.

            The air of the master bedroom was cool, almost cold and she hunkered down under the bedclothes and savoured the warmth they held. She was alone. Blessedly alone.

            In the soft, warm confines of her bed her hand sought the ache at her centre and cupped it, pressed down on it, tried to assuage it. It felt like that, like a comfort, at first.

Of course, the more she kneaded and pressed it, the more the ache grew, like a fire being slowly stoked. She pressed the covers to her mouth to stifle a groan and rocked herself back and forth in anguish. She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t. Because of Dr Samms she was constantly monitored. Who knew when someone could come in? James. Celeste. Her darling Ewan who’d arisen from their marital bed but ten minutes earlier. But the ache persisted and once she’d started touching she felt powerless to stop.

            It felt so good. Ah, god, so good to have pressure there. Her body needed it. Craved it. And it wasn’t really so bad, was it, to just hold herself there? That’s really all it was. But after a few moments more her mind flitted back. To thoughts. Oh, nasty thoughts. She shouldn’t be thinking them! Especially not in this way! But they were insidious little things, those perverted thoughts about what her housemaid Celeste had done to her.

            Celeste! Not only her housemaid but her confidante. Her best friend. What had the shy little blonde creature been thinking? What could have possessed her? But as the pressure and the pleasure mounted where Lilly held herself between her legs she couldn’t help but remember again how it felt to have Celeste do what she did.

            It’s the affliction, Lilly thought. My affliction makes me think these things! It will drive me mad! But once the memories took hold they cemented themselves there. Celeste, shaving Lilly bare between her legs per the doctor’s orders while Lilly’s arms and legs were pinned and powerless, leaving her skin exposed and oh so sensitive. And then. Oh god.

The unthinkable.

Her housemaid put her mouth there.

Her tongue! Right on the burning centre of her need, the pounding pulse of what drove her madness. And the worst part, the absolute worst part was what Lilly scarcely allowed herself to acknowledge. That to have Celeste’s slick tongue licking and licking that tortured bud of flesh was the most exquisite bliss.

            Out of her mind with lustful thoughts Lilly parted her legs wantonly, all thoughts of propriety and repercussions gone. In her mind her finger was Celeste’s tongue on her again but this time, oh this time it would finish what it started.

            The first touch of her finger on the sensitive tip of her clitoris was like heaven. Lilly gasped out, her starved body grateful, hungry and eager at the sensation of wonderful firm pressure directly on there again, just like Celeste had done with her talented tongue. Giddy now, she slicked her finger up and down fast and hard, feeling the paroxysm build, not slowly like the evil doctor forced her to endure, but quickly like her body wanted. ‘Oh god!’ she cried, as her body bucked beneath her hand. Her eyes squeezed shut, she couldn’t help but imagine her sweet friend’s blonde head between her legs, moving and working, that tongue laving. ‘Yes! Yes! Please! I need it. Please, Celeste. Please!’ Lilly whispered her tortured pleadings into her bedclothes as she frigged herself hard.

            Just as her body began to thrash over the edge of the most powerful paroxysm she’d ever endured, the bedroom door opened and then … Celeste was standing there.

 Image

Blurb:

Labelled a nymphomaniac because of her passion, Lillianne Draper is forced to spend her days restrained. She has managed to banish the nefarious Dr Samms only to begin to question the motives of her scullery maid, Celeste. Charged with the task of monitoring her mistress’s illness, Celeste seems to enjoy her new responsibility a little too much.  Lillianne must try and control her body’s responses or her husband will order the return of the doctor who tormented her. But being left every day at the mercy of Celeste is arousing desires in Lilly she didn’t know she had.

Links:

Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk

Kyoko Church discovered the power of the written erotic word when she was 16 years old and penned a very explicit missive to her boyfriend detailing all the naughty things she wanted to do to him. When he received it, boyfriend was impressed. When he found it, father was not.

For the next 18 years she hid her naughty thoughts in shame. Until she found a community where they were once again appreciated for the well-imagined smut they are. Her short stories have been published in anthologies by Black Lace, Rubicund Publishing and Xcite Books. Book One, Nymphomania, and Book Two, Sapphic Secrets, in her Draper Estate Trilogy were published by Xcite in 2012. For Her Pleasure will be published by HarperCollins Mischief in March 2013.

A Canuck by birth, she has recently made Australia her home. She is currently learning to drive on the left and say G’day convincingly.

Website: http://kyokochurch.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kyoko.church

Twitter: https://twitter.com/kyokochurch

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/kyokochurch/

 Image