Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Katalina: I absolutely loved this story and I know there are a few interesting facts associated with it. Personally, I think “Pampering Jessica” is an incredibly romantic book. What was the main inspiration for “Pampering Jessica”?
Katalina: Do you show or read your work to your husband? How involved is he in the writing process?
Monday, March 28, 2011
"Another procession now came through the far door. This time, two caretakers, aged maids from the seraglio, led in two younger women. These last were clothed in kaftans of red and gold brocade. In the center of the room, they paused, bowed to the pasha and gave him a salaam, then held out their arms. Their elderly maids rushed forward, unclasped the hooks on their garments, and viola!
The men gasped in pleasure.
The two young women were completely naked.
Sirena sucked in air. Save for rings on their fingers and toes and strands of pearls threaded into their waist-length raven hair, these girls were nude. Polished, their dark olive skin glowed in the brilliant refractions of the sunlight on the alabaster tiles. Gracefully, aware of their power to enflame to lust, they strolled the perimeter of the room, dangerously close to the men who watched them with covetous eyes.
Sirena was left now to wonder if she was to perform the same promenade. Yet, no one spoke to her. All eyes, all attention went to the two women who strolled now to the center of the room, stood upon the smaller couch and pillows, then sank down gracefully to the silken bed.
Close enough to see the two women’s expressions, Sirena gasped at the smiles they gave each other. One rose on her hands and knees, the other rolled to her back. Like a beast of prey, the first woman crawled over the second, a feral grin of domination spreading her plush red lips. The one on her back spread wide her legs, her mound cleanly shaven, smooth, glistening with moisture that could have come only from inside her.
Sirena reared back. They were to make love to each other. How could that be?
Yet it was true. The woman on her back, Sirena could well see from this angle, bore a tattoo on one inner thigh. Her mate, the dominant one, reached down to her cunny to stroke her seam with one long index finger. The men in the crowd shuffled. One moaned.
The dominant woman arched, her firm buttocks in the air, then she bent and put her mouth to the woman beneath her. The two of them gave themselves up to the pleasures, the one licking and sucking. The other, grabbing up handfuls of purple silk, twisting in her euphoria.
Sirena felt her own body gush in appreciation of the two. She shifted, pushing her thighs together to stop the throb that had begun and made her wish for Mark to ease the hurt. But the two women had no inclination to cease their pleasure, nor did the men on the sidelines. Some of them stood as the dominant woman bit the dark pebbling nipples of her partner. Some men slumped in their chairs, their hands to their groins, or leaned toward the women for a better view. Meanwhile, from beneath the shallow bedding, the dominant woman produced an ivory rod. Perhaps six inches in length, the implement made some in the audience laugh, a few applaud, other gasp, but most flared their nostrils and growled. The houri held it aloft for all to view like a prize, a promise. This ivory rod, Sirena could now see, was shaped like a penis. A marvelous stiff, thick cock.Sirena licked her lips. It was just like Mark’s."
Friday, March 25, 2011
Rosalie Lario has interviewed me. It should be up sometime this morning. Please stop by and chat! I love to see you!
Exciting news! Pushing Her Boundaries is available in print and for Kindle! Yay! For $3.99 it's a major bargain and a cheap way to spend an afternoon!
Come hang out with me - today I'm discussing movie popcorn and the tempest in a teapot over the lack of nutrients in movie theater food. As if I was expecting nutritional value? Tell me what you think. I always want to hear what people think about the food police!
Happy Elite Eight!
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Anyone who knows me knows I’m a creature of habit. Change is difficult for me and I also love my sleep. :o) This means I’m not sure when I’ll get back to my writing.
In the midst of all this I learned that a magazine where I’m a regular contributor will be ceasing publication in a few months. The income wasn’t huge, but it was nice to have the extra cash. Now I need to find a replacement.
I’ve been trying to branch out to new places in my fiction and non fiction. Being a freelance writer I’ve learned to never have all your eggs in one basket. You just never know when the publisher will go under. Do I think that will happen with some of my publishers – NO. I’m just saying I’m not foolish to believe it’s not possible. We’ve all witnessed the economic horrors the last few years.
Currently I contribute to six blogs. Some weekly and some monthly. Something’s going to have to change there too. I’m just not sure where. I’m also finding I need to find more time to promote. I have new releases March, April and May. I just learned of the March release less than a week ago and it will be available from Ellora’s Cave on Friday. THIS Friday.
So if my posts are sparse you’ll understand I’m getting things prepared for August.
In the meantime here is a taste of Just Another Rainy Night available March 25th.
Tired of their ho-hum sex life, Jack decides to spice things up. He plans a surprise for his wife. After sending the children off for an overnight with their aunt, Jack handcuffs Beth to their bed.
Beth awakes naked, blindfolded and at the mercy of her husband. The day starts off with being fed by Jack and quickly turns into hot and heavy sex. She soon learns that a slip of the tongue can lead to stinging ass cheeks.
This rainy day will be spent pushing their sexual limits. Whether in the bed, the corner, or in front of the fireplace, Jack will leave Beth begging for more—until she says something unforgiveable.
An Excerpt From: JUST ANOTHER RAINY DAY
Copyright © AMBER SKYZE, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”
Beth opened her eyes to total darkness. She attempted to move, but found her arms were pulled above her head. Around her delicate wrists was soft fur. She tugged and the rattling sound of chains filled her ears. She was restrained. Fear spread throughout her body and into her throat.
“Why am I handcuffed?” As she tried to sit up she realized she was also blindfolded. Never in their fifteen years of marriage had she woken to find herself possessed like a slave or prisoner.
The smell of bacon wafted closer, assaulting her nostrils.
“I’m going to fuck that pussy all day long.”
Beth moved her head to the left where Jack’s voice echoed through the room. She shivered. The thought of him fucking her all day sent chills down her spine, until reality came crashing back.
“What about the kids? Surely they’ll want Mom to cook them breakfast and drive them all over God’s creation.”
“All taken care of. I just sent them packing with Auntie. They’ll be home tomorrow bright and early.”
How long had she’d slept? She knew she was exhausted when she fell into bed the night before, but to sleep through the kids waking and Jack shackling her to the bed wasn’t like her.
“Did you spike my drink last night, Jack?”
A full belly laugh filled the room.
“I’d hardly do something so sinister.”
He had a point. In all their marriage he’d never even spoken an ill word against her. Why should she accuse him of something so hideous?
“How did you manage to handcuff me to the bed?”
“You were snoring peacefully. I moved your arms without getting a peep out of you. You barely stirred.”
Beth racked her brains trying to remember any feeling of being moved around, but nothing came to mind.
“Clever Jack, now uncuff me please.”
“No can do.”
“Huh? Please Jack. My arms can only take so much of being stretched like this. I’d like you to release me, now.”
“Remember your prisoner fantasy?”
How could she forget? She’d told him about the fantasy eons ago. They’d been enjoying a glass of white wine on a cold winter’s night. They’d nestled all cozy in front of the fireplace. As they gazed into the glowing embers, she had shared her deepest darkest desires. Beth had told him how she wanted to feel like she’d been kidnapped, taken away and tortured in every delicious way imaginable. Jack had listened quietly and nodded at the appropriate times. She’d explained that she pictured herself in the shower, after a long day. A stranger would appear and pull her soaking wet from the jet stream. He’d carry her to her bedroom where he’d take what he wanted. He’d ignore her pleas for him to stop. He’d fuck her until they were both sated.
She’d thought he’d forgotten by now. Obviously he had been biding his time.
“Is this what is happening today? You’re living out my fantasy?” A slight shiver passed through her body. Jack had listened. He’d taken her seriously and decided to give her what she needed.
“We are and I’m in control. You will do as I say or suffer the consequences.”
Beth shook as a chill of delight filled her. Jack’s voice was deep and demanding. He was using his dominant tone.
“Got it.” A secret smile filled her soul.
Monday, March 21, 2011
LADY RAMSEY'S RIBALD CHOICES is a free read included in the back of the book, LADY FEATHERSTONE'S FERVENT AFFAIR.
At twenty-eight, Lady Ramsey had the distinct privilege of possessing her two deceased husbands’ fortunes, a house in Grosvenor Square, two in the country and a set of race horses who had served as stud to so many mares that she had begun to hire them out to service her neighbors’ breeding programs.
Just before the demise of her second husband, she had broached a novel idea with the old roué. To her surprise, he agreed that for her excellent service to him and his appetites for her cunny and her breasts, she should secure some kind of continued joy for herself after his passing. She did not want to breed. No, no. But she did wish to enjoy herself before she lost her lustrous blonde looks and healthy buxom body. Thus the old man had immediately set about interviewing and hiring staff who would aid her in her quest.
With one butler and his assistant, plus a male cook who also served as man-of-all-work, her masculine household’s uniqueness was noted by the ton. Indeed, her household became a notorious topic and a bane to her more conventional half-brothers, Adam, Wes and Jack Stanhope.
But she told herself she could not care overmuch. Her dear brothers were not exactly paragons of sexual virtue and in fact, lived up the demands of the males in the family that they be accomplished lovers. She, too, was a Stanhope, after all, and could flaunt convention as her ancestors had. True, too, she was also a by-blow of the eighth earl, Lord John, and thus not only on the other side of the blanket but entitled to act like it if she wished. And she did sincerely wish. Plus, like her brothers, she would never find happiness in love or marriage. She was a victim of the family curse that damned all love affairs within the family bounds. So why then should she not give herself what happiness she might take?
Thus tonight, after burying her husband in July and allowing herself two more months to train and be trained by her new staff, Clarice shivered in anticipation of her initiation into a new world of carnal delights. A world described to her by her butler and his assistant. A world she craved for the lonely days of her existence. For if love was not her destiny, if marriage an impossibility and a prison of its own making, if children not her goal, then pleasure would be.
Tonight was her first evening. She trembled deliciously as she rose from her bathtub, stepped over the porcelain rim to the floor and allowed her butler to wrap her naked body in a heated bath towel.
“Thank you, Robert,” she smiled at the man whom her husband had hired for her to embark on the search for her own ecstasies. She adored the man’s luscious swarthy looks, the breadth of his shoulders, the bulk of his arms and his experience as a colonel in the Iberian Campaign. A colleague of her brother Wes, Robert had acquired a leg wound that left him with a slight limp.
“Madam,” he said in homage with that baritone she felt stroke her spine in velvet tones. “You may want to use the French lavender perfume this evening.”
“Really?” she admired his sculpted mouth and allowed her praise to emanate from her eyes. “Where would you suggest I apply it tonight?” she asked. He always had ideas that titillated her senses.
“For the Baron DeVere, I would say the hollow of your breasts.” His voice rumbled as his umber gaze traveled from one areola to the other and sank to the valley between.
“And for Lord Landover?” she asked, recalling that Robert and Landover were childhood friends.
“The hollow between your buttocks.” Robert’s hell-dark gaze locked on hers.
“He likes a woman’s nether place, does he?” she pressed her thighs together as cream flooded her cunny at the prospect.
“Very much. He can show you the joys of it like no other man. You are prepared for this?” he asked, his muscular arms embracing her as he circled and ran his hands down her backbone to cup her cheeks, define the cleft between them, and press inside her asshole with one long index finger.“I am.”
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Wanna play 7 Minutes in Heaven?
Releases March 16th!
Ever had a fantasy about your boss? 'Fess up. We all have.
Despite Eliza Worth’s attraction to her boss, Zach Taunton, she’s so fed up with his unreasonable demands she’s decided to look for another job. Her matchmaking friend Margo, determined to give Eliza some sexual healing for her work stress, invites her to a singles mixer, where Eliza reluctantly agrees to play a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. In a dark closet, Eliza is quickly brought to the edge and beyond by a sexy mystery man. Her initial intrigue quickly turns to horror when she discovers her masterful, anonymous lover is none other than her slave-driving boss himself—and Zach seems to want her for a lot longer than seven minutes. But first he’ll have to relinquish some control and negotiate his way into her heart.
Watch the Video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s_K4oZAFAj8
Seven Minutes of Seduction
Ellora's Cave Publishing
(Copyright © AFTON LOCKE, 2011, All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.)
Her breath caught when she realized the room wasn’t just dark. It was completely black. She couldn’t see a thing now. Margo must have had special padding or weather-stripping installed around the edges of the door.
“You’re not allowed to talk, starting now,” Margo said, her voice muffled.
Eliza fought down the urge to pound on the door and beg to be let out but knew that would make her resemble a childish idiot. Not being able to see and knowing nothing about who was in the closet with her sent her heart rate into the aerobic range.
Her other senses soon took over. She heard the rustle of curtain, a man’s breathing and…oh God. That was Zach’s cologne. The distinctive blend of exotic spices and understated class had distracted her mid-task more than once at work.
Coincidence, she told herself as she clasped her hand across her throat. Lots of men wore the same cologne. He couldn’t possibly be here.
This man, whoever he was, didn’t seem nearly as inclined to pause and analyze the situation as she did. She gasped when a questing hand brushed her waist and arm, followed much too quickly by two steely arms fastening around her. Goose bumps exploded across her arms as rolled-up shirtsleeves and very hot forearms slid across her skin.
A pair of lips found her ear with uncanny precision and slashed across it, sliding into a jagged path down her neck. Beard stubble—another reminder of Zach—scraped her skin, sending dual sensations of alarm and pleasure shooting down her spine.
With her arms all but pinned to her sides, she could do nothing but slide her hands around the man’s waist. His body was hot and muscular under her fingers. Muscles flexed beneath the soft shirt as he maneuvered her to stand against a row of shelves. The delicate scent of laundered sheets mingled with his cologne, reminding her of beds.
She turned her chin toward his mouth, needing to taste him. Suddenly his hands anchored both sides of her face, holding her in place for a kiss. No, not a kiss—an onslaught. He skimmed her lips with his tongue before biting, tasting and teasing. Without even knowing exactly how, she found herself slack-jawed and senseless, wanting everything he had to give.
He tasted like wine, with a slight salty tang, as if he’d eaten caviar. While he claimed her tongue with punishing swirls of his own, his legs pressed hard against her, his cock even harder, bruising the delicate flesh over her pubic bone through their clothing.
“One minute has passed.”
The automated voice nearly made Eliza jump out of her skin. Margo had thought of everything.
The sensation of tugging at her blouse brought her attention to her breasts. Her blouse went slack and threatened to fall off when he unbuttoned the few large buttons. Needing and aching, her nipples anticipated strong fingers or a hot, flicking tongue.
At the same time, alarms went off in her head. Exactly how far did people go in this game? Surely seven minutes wasn’t enough time to go all the way but she was at his mercy, whatever he planned.
If this man fucked her in the dark, she wouldn’t even see his cock. She would only be able to feel it, thrusting into her drenched pussy.
“Wait, I—” she uttered.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Sadly, this blog has nothing to do with Fabio...
Monday, March 14, 2011
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
What's new? Not much - still working on the paranormal and then I will focus on the romantic suspense.
I received a funny/interesting rejection from a publisher who requested copies of all my books. "Read them all. Loved them! Great writing! Wonderful style! Best of luck with your career!" I guess that's called letting me down softly.
Don't you love the photo? It's taken from one of my favorite trails. This is why I love Northern California so much in the winter. The landscape turns into a fairytale.
Have a happy weekend all. I won't be here next Friday unless I can figure out how to schedule my post. Eye surgery...scary...
Thursday, March 10, 2011
I was more than three quarters of the way through, excited that the h/h had found their way back to each other and that they were expressing their joy in a steamy, naked fashion! Up to this point, the love scenes had been extremely well-written, a great blend of emotion and inventiveness.
For purposes of this discussion, let’s name the heroine Bitsy, and the hero Stryker – why? Because I want to!
Now close your eyes and picture this. Bitsy is lying on her back. Stryker is surging into her with powerful thrusts and plundering her mouth with fiery kisses. While “still buried deep in her welcoming pussy”, he leans down to kiss around the jeweled ring in her belly button.
What??????????????? Does this man have no spinal cord? Is his penis three feet long? Is he a performer with Cirque Du Soleil??
I figured I must have missed something, skipped a sentence, so I re-read the preceding paragraphs, but nope, there was great detail about how tightly they were connected, etc. And this contortionist move was not simply one sentence. The scene was in Bitsy’s POV, and the entire paragraph was devoted to all of the stimulation she was receiving from Stryker’s talented tongue and plundering manhood at the same time!!!
I’m not sure I’m going to be able to finish this book.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
I have so many things that are a time suck to me that take time away from writing and editing I have to ask – are the medias like FaceBook, MySpace and Twitter worth the time?
I attended a few workshops over the last year that claimed that twitter was a must have for writers. I came home excited and ready to sign up. I didn’t. why? Because to me it seems like a waste of precious time.
I have friends and family who spend all day long on Face Book. They all beg me to get an account. I’ve fought it for over a year now. At first it was because I was being stubborn because they wouldn’t stop harassing me, now it’s just one of those things I’m not feeling.
Give me your take. Do you find any of these social medias a benefit to your career as a writer or are they just what I perceive them to be – a time suck?
Monday, March 7, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Friday, March 4, 2011
I certainly can't forget my friends over at SSS!
I will be resuming my Friday posts.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
An Excerpt From: TREASURING EVIE
Copyright © TESSIE BRADFORD, 2010
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
“How long are you in town?” She tried for casual.
“I plan on being here for the foreseeable future, Evie.”
“Really. Foreseeable, huh?” The urge to not give a damn, to break her own rule and let this man do whatever he wanted to her even if he was leaving town tonight was so consuming that her head swam with the effort to continue the conversation. “I’m sure you’ll have a relaxing vacation while you’re here. Did you rent a cottage or are you staying in one of the hotels?”
“I moved into my new home a couple of weeks ago, Evelyn, right there across the lake.” Matt wrapped his strong hands around her shoulders, turned her toward the water and brought her back tightly against him. “Howdy, neighbor,” he whispered against her ear.
“You’re going to live here year-round?”
“Absolutely.” When he started dropping featherlight kisses down her neck, Evie let her head lean back against his shoulder and her hands reach around to rest on his hips. “I thought being able to leave the rat race behind and spend my days fishing and enjoying nature was my dream come true, but right now, I’m trying to figure out what I’ve done right in my life to cause the powers that be to bring me to this little town, to the sexiest, most alluring woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.” When he flexed his hips, his erection brushed along the top of her ass. Evie whimpered when his fingers went underneath her top and slowly trailed up her rib cage to rest beneath her breasts.
“What are you doing to me?” she asked almost desperately. She covered his hands through the material.
“Worshipping your body, honey.” He cupped her fullness and squeezed gently. “You are so beautiful.” He ran his tongue across her bare shoulder. “And we fit together so perfectly.”
“But we don’t know each other and I don’t…” Evie was terrified that he was going to think that she behaved this way normally, but every fiber of her being wanted to be with this man. She helped him knead her breasts, encouraging him to use more pressure.
He pinched her nipples once and then pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the ground. Not giving her a second to protest, he drew her to him by running his hands from her waist to the underside of her breasts and back again.
Despite late July heat and humidity, Evie shivered as goose bumps rose along her skin where he touched her. She closed her eyes and leaned into him. She marveled at the texture of his fingertips, and with their slight roughness, she knew this man worked with his hands. He caressed her with a unique combination of tenderness and strength, taking his time to explore her ribs, her bellybutton and the valley between her breasts.
“Kiss me, honey,” he breathed against her ear before turning her in his arms and drawing her close. He twined one hand through her hair, using a fistful of the damp curls to tilt her head back just so. His other hand rested firmly in the small of her back.
When his lips came down on hers, Evie was thankful for his support. Matt didn’t start slowly or cautiously. He claimed her mouth, possessed it. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to surrender to his mastery. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with enthusiasm.
Evie moaned desperately as Matt ran his hands down her back and cupped her ass cheeks almost roughly. He played with the soft globes as he plundered her mouth. Her pussy was on fire and when he pushed his thigh between hers at the perfect angle, she rubbed herself against him with wanton abandon.
“That’s it, baby,” he growled against her lips while guiding her to ride his leg. “Get yourself off on me. Rub your little clit hard, Evie.”
The pressure he was exerting and the rough texture of the denim on her ultra-sensitive bud sent her hips into overdrive. She latched back onto his mouth, driving her tongue deep. Matt grabbed one of her nipples and twisted it hard. It was exactly what she needed.
Evie exploded, bucking against him wildly. Something in her orgasm-clouded mind told her that he wouldn’t let her fall. She clawed at his back while experiencing the first sexual release that she had enjoyed with an actual man anywhere in the general vicinity for a very long time. But it still wasn’t enough. She laid her head down on his shoulder and struggled for breath but kept moving on his leg.
“You need more, don’t you, baby?” Matt bit her earlobe and then laved the pain away with a swift lick. “You need my cock buried deep in your pussy. You need to be fucked, Evie.”
“Yes, oh God, Matt, please!” She squealed as he pushed her shorts down over her hips while she struggled with shaking hands to pop the button of his jeans. He yanked his t-shirt over his head. Mild-mannered Evelyn Ashlyn didn’t exist anymore and she didn’t care in the least. Nothing mattered to her except getting this mystery man naked and inside her body. Every cell of her being cried out for him.