Snippet Sunday: CIRQUE DE MINUIT

If you follow me here or on social media you know that I love artistic circus almost as much as I love ballet. Aerial acts are my favorite, so when I set out to write a book in the world of cirque I wanted to write about aerial artists, and I happened to choose aerial silks. But there are tons of other awesome aerial acts out there, with hoops or variations of trapeze. Some of my favorite pics:

Then there is this photo that reminds me so much of the scene in Cirque de Minuit when Theo takes Kelsey out to the woods to practice for the first time with silks in the trees:

If you haven’t read the book, here’s a little snippet from the scene:

     He explained about climbs, wraps, and drops, about flying and balancing, about friction and contortion, about elegance and the pose. They were up and down off the silks. He demonstrated some tricks by himself way up high, fearlessly, and did other things near the ground with his hands on her, pushing and pulling at her body to show how it was done. His fingers traced her muscles, arranging her arms, pressing on her shoulder. He smelled like sweat and cologne, and fresh air. Kelsey started to resent the silk fabric between them, wishing to touch, unimpeded, the startling hardness of his body. The unexpected softness of his skin.

     You want?

     Oh, God, yes. I want.

     “You paying attention?”

     His sharp voice brought her fantasies into focus. She met his gaze, caught fixating on the pulse at the base of his neck. “Yes,” she lied. “I’m paying attention.” I want. I want.

     His gaze dissected her. He would have to be blind to not perceive how badly she craved him. His rough kiss, his body bearing down on hers. He stared at her, and she could see the animal wildness he usually kept in check, written right in the taut planes of his face. He guided her down off the silks, hurrying her with impatient hands. She leaned away from him as they stood, a self-protective movement.

     He drew her back, his fingers spread against her waist, then pushing at her waistband. He plunged one hand down the front of her leggings. She put a hand on his wrist but he didn’t stop, and she didn’t really want him to.

     “You said we can’t do this, no? Because we work together?” He mocked her, his fingers slipping through the evidence of her attraction, her need.

     “I didn’t say we c–can’t,” she stammered. “I said we shouldn’t.” She drew in a soft breath as he found her clit. He manipulated it expertly, lightly, giving her bursts of pleasure that teased but didn’t satisfy. She panted under his desultory gaze. The silks billowed free behind him. She watched them in a kind of trance as his fingers left her. He stripped off her shirt and bra, peeled down her fitted pants. He wasn’t gentle, or rough…just intent.

     Theo lifted one of her hands. “Take it. Hold the silk above your head.” She didn’t understand at first what he wanted. Impatiently, he wrapped her hand, locking one wrist in the white length. He took the other silk and this time Kelsey bound herself, gritting her teeth against chattering even though she was warm. Hot. She was burning up for him.

     “Hold on to the silk,” he ordered. Then, in one liquid motion, he went to his knees and lifted her legs over his shoulders.

     Oh Jesus fucking God!

Aaaand it goes on from there.

If you haven’t read Cirque de Minuit yet, it’s a really hot and often raunchy book–but you may want to wait until the end of this year or early next year when I have the next book in the series ready to release. OR you can just go read it now! Click the cover below to find a blurb and buy links. 

Just sharing a photo today…

I came across this photo in a Google search and I fell in love with it. (Would offer attribution but I don’t know the original source. Please let me know if you do.)

It reminds me very much of the two ballet-themed BDSM romances I’m working on right now… Waking Kiss and Fever Dream. I did set up a Waking Kiss page here where you can see the cover and read the blurb (click).

Hope you’ll check it out!

Snippet Sunday: LILY MINE

I have to start this with a huge THANK YOU to all my readers. Disciplining the Duchess has been out for over a month and to my complete surprise it stayed in the top 100-Erotica on Amazon for over a month (!) and was also a AllRomanceEbooks bestseller. Without your reviews, retweets, and recommendations, this never could have happened. As you probably know, I’m not out there tearing up the social media, organizing street armies or paying for the services of a public relations agent. I’m mostly just acting like a dumbass on Twitter. (If you follow me on there you know it’s true!) I’ve always counted on readers being kind enough to recommend my books when they enjoy them, and I think I have the best readers in the whole world.

Since Disciplining the Duchess was so well received, I thought I’d feature my other Regency-era historical book this week for Snippet Sunday. Lily Mine was a pleasure for me to write, partly because a wonderful friend inspired it, and partly because the story came to me so easily. Lord Ashbourne, Lily Mine‘s hero, was a tad less prickly than the stern Duke of Courtland, but no less alpha when push came to shove.

One of the most delicious things about Lily and Lord Ashbourne’s story is the horrible awkwardness when they first launch their scheme for Lily to play the part of his missing wife–even the servants are kept in the dark.

     Lily stifled a yawn and Mrs. Gertrude came to help her to bed. There was an awkward moment when the old woman stubbornly led her to Lord Ashbourne’s chamber despite Lily’s quiet protestations. She brought water for washing and laid out Lily’s nightclothes, although Lily would not have dreamed of undressing in his room.

     Instead she stood by the window for nearly half an hour, too afraid to leave and be beset upon by Mrs. Gertrude. She used the time to look around his chamber. There was a large bed with luxurious covers of blue and gold velvet, a good amount of ornate furniture, trunks and armoires she assumed were full of his clothing and things. When at last she decided she simply must creep away to another bedroom, the door swung open. Again Lily was caught in a place she did not belong.

     ”Mrs. Gertrude led me here,” she explained quickly, going to his bed to gather up the filmy, lacy nightclothes before he saw them.

     ”Yes. Lilliana slept here. While she was here with me, anyway, which was admittedly not very long.” He frowned. “It is a problem. There is no bed in Lilliana’s room. I was determined she and I would not have one of those marriages where we slept in separate rooms and I crept off to prostitutes every night.” He stopped. “Pardon me. What an uncouth subject to discuss.”

     ”I think that was most admirable of you,” Lily said. “It’s what I would have preferred if I had been a married lady. I think it is better for husbands and wives to be close. To be in love even. Not that I know anything about it,” she added, embarrassed. How droll of her to opine about the best way to be married when she was bound for certain spinsterhood.

     But he smiled at her, and it was not a mocking smile. “Are you a romantic, Lily?” His gaze was so warm and fond, it made something inside her react. She clasped her hands together to still their trembling. It was only natural that he should affect her, wasn’t it? They had spent the entire day together becoming familiar, becoming friends of a sort. He hadn’t gone out of his way to make her feel like a commoner either, not for one moment. She smiled back at him.

     ”I am a hopeless romantic.”

     By the soft light of the fire he regarded her, the flames illuminating the muted flecks of gold in his dark hair. “It is a shame I’ve spent the entire day telling you about Lilliana, and learned nothing of Lily in return.”

     He teased her now. Perhaps he even flirted, wonder of wonders. Because it wasn’t true. He had learned many things about her–that she couldn’t read and write, that she loved Lilyvale’s gardens, that she was not adept at chess. That she was not very convincing yet at playing the highborn lady. She had even confided in him about her family affairs. Well, about everything but that. She couldn’t tell him about that. But she was no longer afraid of the same coarse treatment at his hands. He’d treated her with nothing but kindness and respect. Even now, in his bedroom, she felt safe, but she knew it was terribly inappropriate for her to be here, pretend wife or not.

    She moved toward the door. “I should not disturb you further if you wish to retire, my lord.”

     ”You are not disturbing me. Well, aside from your habit of addressing me as ‘my lord.’ But I suppose we are still somewhat strangers in an intimate way.”

     A very intimate way…

If you liked Disciplining the Duchess, you might enjoy Lily Mine too. I hope you’ll check it out by clicking the book cover link below.

Snippet Sunday: DEEP IN THE WOODS

Ah, it’s spring. The rain is falling, the trees are flowering, and Annabel’s allergies are going insane.

Haha. Well, I’ll survive, I’m sure. I’m hard at work on Waking Kiss and the follow up novel, Fever Dream, but since spring is reminding me of woods and nature, I thought I’d post a snippet of Deep in the Woods for you on this Snippet Sunday.

Deep in the Woods deals with the eternal BDSM question, how far is too far? The heroine, Sophie, has been involved in a lengthy “consensual nonconsent” relationship that not only endangered her, but others in the Atlanta kink community. As a result, her and her partner were ostracized from the very support system that might have saved her from a lot of pain and suffering.

When she tries to return to the kink scene, Dave, the hero, learns that many in the community don’t have the kindest feelings toward her.

 “She’s just an attention-whore,” Madame M said. “Before Depraved, there was that other one, you remember?”

     “But he wasn’t as bad,” said Veronica.

     “Well, he was bad enough. Anyway,” M continued, “eventually Sophie and Depraved were not welcome at the munches and parties anymore. They were blacklisted from Studio Erotica. Lawrence and Marie had to do it, otherwise the police would have found a way to shut them down.”

     They all fell silent. Dave looked from one face to the other. “Then what? What happened?”

     “Well,” said M. “They disappeared. We didn’t know. None of us knew what was going on until it was too late. Sophie’s parents came sniffing around, saying their daughter hadn’t contacted them in weeks. Again, the cops were all over us. No one knew who this ‘Depraved’ character was, where he lived, where he worked. No one had seen them, but the cops were at every venue, at every event looking for Sophie. Sophie’s father is some high-placed local businessman or something—”

     “That wasn’t the point, that the cops were everywhere,” said Clark. “So you had to answer a few questions! What about her?” He turned to Dave. “They found Sophie when she turned up in the emergency room. She had been abused. Drugged.” He went silent, searching for words. “Broken. She was a mess. She might have died.” He scowled at M. “No one would have asked to be treated like that. So calling her a bitch—”

     “She was a bitch! She made trouble for a lot of people—”

     “I cried,” said Veronica. “I felt so guilty.”

     “Exactly.” Madame M frowned. “We all felt guilty, but it was none of our faults. And when she failed again and again to report him, she endangered every other submissive in Atlanta, because he didn’t go away. He hasn’t gone away. She never did bring any charges against him, although as far as I know, he’s gone to ground. He couldn’t come anywhere near any munch or club in Atlanta without getting beaten to a bloody pulp, that’s for sure.”

     Dave thought that sounded like a good time, beating to a bloody pulp a man who had put Sophie in the hospital. A man who had done it in the name of BDSM. A “sadist.” That’s probably what this “Depraved” imagined himself. A kinky sadist, just like Dave, only he hadn’t known when to stop. He remembered how Jerry, a “daddy dom”-type player, had scowled at him as he’d chatted Sophie up. Jerry had probably thought, oh, no, she can’t fall into the hands of another sadist. Not on my watch. But there were sadists, and then there were sociopaths.

     “So why do you think she came back?” Dave asked.

     “Lonely, maybe?” offered Veronica.

     “God, I can’t imagine why she would show her face here,” said M with a snort. “You saw the reception she got. Just needs more attention, I suppose.”

     Well, she had gotten Dave’s attention. She definitely had his attention now.

If you haven’t read Deep in the Woods and the follow up book, Fortune, now is the time to do it since Fortune is marked down to $2.99 on Amazon! (I checked and it’s not marked down at Barnes and Noble, unfortunately.)

Click the book cover below to read a blurb of Deep in the Woods and find buy links. And I hope you’re having a wonderful spring!

My FROLICON report

As promised, I’m going to tell you all about my trip to Frolicon this year. Frolicon is a sex-positive, kinky, freaky, geeky convention that takes place in Atlanta every spring. I was invited by a former editor to take part in the Author track of the convention and I jumped at the chance.

Full disclosure… I went as an author, not a party-er. I had family obligations that prevented me from staying all night for the play parties and edgier events, but I still met a ton of great people who were all sex- and kink-positive. My Frolicon started Friday morning. There was a snafu getting my badge and signing in, mainly because everyone in convention ops was still sleeping/hungover/busy from the parties the night before. At last, some helpful sober people were able to sign me in and locate my badge.

With that done, I proceeded upstairs to the sixth floor. The author panels were, strangely, taking place in someone’s Junior Suite hotel room. So that person actually had to wake up and get dressed so the authors could get inside and hold the panel. I was like, oh, this is disaster, but we ended up with a good crowd and a lot of people asking great questions. I got to see old friends like Lord Cailleach, who writes and publishes erotica, and Shakir Rashaan, whose writing journey started around the same time mine did. He writes fantastic, raunchy, sexy BDSM tales set in the “Nubian Underworld” as well as erotic mysteries under the pen name Curtis Alexander Hamilton. My old friend Jenna Barton was there, who recently sold her first BDSM/menage book to Riverdale, and Jamie Thorsen, who got his first short story accepted into a Laura Antoniou anthology, No Safewords.

I also got to meet some really awesome new-to-me authors, like Sascha Illyvich, the “bad boy of erotic romance,” and Gabriel Belthir, author of Lily of the Wastelands, and another soon to be released book at Ellora’s Cave that she co-authored with Angelia Sparrow, another panel participant who was dressed like a friendly librarian but definitely had a naughty streak.

So, bottom line, it is so exciting to be around other authors. At the first panel we talked about the state of the publishing industry and how quickly it’s changing. Me and Shakir were really the only two authors who’d struck out into self-publishing territory so we were able to bring our experiences to the table on that. In the Saturday panels we talked about Writing Sex (and the wide variety of kinks, genres, and gender niches available out there). We talked about Fifty Shades and the ways it has changed the landscape for all erotica authors. We talked about how nice it is to be able to buy our dirty, smutty books in ebook format now, so we don’t have to hide the covers as we’re taking the subway to work! There were tons of good questions and discussions and lots of attendees, so that was fun.

Afterward I gave out copies of my novella Molly’s Lips: Club Mephisto Retold to interested attendees, along with armfuls of bookmarks, postcards, and pens. I even gave them out to people I struck up conversations with in hallways, lobby chairs, or food lines. You can see me here doing an impromptu book signing. (My super-friend Linzy Antoinette took photos for me and basically helped me keep my shit together through all this craziness!)

So, wanna know what ELSE we did? Because we did tons of other fun stuff. After the panel on Friday we went to an event called GIRLS WHO WANT TO SEE MALE ON MALE ACTION. It was exactly what it sounds like. We walked in and joined a large audience in the center of the room as wonderful, sexually open men turned each other on. In the center, a rigger was tying and suspending a partner (?) I put a question mark because PlaineJane, who organized the event, did pair up perfect strangers in some cases and that was hot too. It was like, wow, nice to meet you. Okay, let’s get to it. I really appreciated the opportunity to see some real life guys (not porn stars or still shots) pleasuring each other and getting sexy. After that I had to go but Linzy stayed for a class called “The Joy of Canes” given by a presenter named “Boymeat.” She was subsequently mentally scarred for life. I wish I could have seen it! It sounded fun and it included some ruffled panties, of which I deeply approve.

On Saturday we walked around and saw tons more stuff, to include a nude wedding between two very-much-in-love kinksters. Yes, it was a legal wedding and yes, half the guests were nude, as were the bride and groom, except for his top hat and her veil. So, congratulations to Bill and LaDonna! Then me and Linzy strolled through the Marketplace and both wished we had money to spend, since the vendors had all kinds of ouchy, delicious looking play gear, as well as beautiful clothes and jewelry. Linzy was eyeing a really beautiful red corset and we started planning her Authors After Dark look. YEAH! (She is so purty.)

After that we went to see a rope demo from one of my favorite Fetlife Shibari heroes, MaillerPhong. He allowed me to share some of his Interwoven Images in my Hall of Hotness a few years back, but I had never met him in person before now so that was a thrill. I greatly appreciate his generosity in sharing the photos, and his talent. His lovely rope assistant NoLoveLost was there with him modeling the knots for class. Me and Linzy sat and stared in awe at her perfect breasts and decided that although we are both pretty straight, we are definitely boob lesbians. We did not learn much about knots, but Linzy may or may not have motorboated NLL’s magnificent breasts after the class after being invited to do so. I am definitely not going to give a definite yes or no on whether that happened.

The last class we were able to catch before I had to take off was a class on sodomy. Of course you all know I’m totally into anal loving and I’m apparently not alone because this class was wall to wall. The table at the front contained an array of TERRIFYING anal dildos and plugs and standing next to the table–a very cute slave boy in a harness. His partner proceeded to give an informative talk about anal play, anal safety, pegging, enemas, etc. Again, I HAD TO LEAVE before the demo portion started, but Linzy stayed and the ensuing texts I received are priceless. A sample: SHE JUST PULLED A PLUG THE SIZE OF MY HEAD OUT OF HIS ASS!!!

So, Frolicon was really great. They are serious about having fun, promoting sex and happiness, and letting it all hang out. The whole time I was there I had a wonderful feeling of acceptance and group support. I hope to return again next year to hang on more panels and take in more classes. Hope you enjoyed my Frolicon adventures, abbreviated as they were.

Just a heads up, I’ve bought a “pre-ticket” to attend Eroticon USA in October of this year, here in Atlanta. This event was previously only held in the UK so I’m excited there’s an Eroticon so close to home. Click here to learn more about Eroticon USA.

Have a great weekend and thanks for reading this super-long post!

Headed to FROLICON!

Just a note to my readers–if you’re near the Atlanta area and planning to attend Frolicon this weekend, I’ll be there! Click here to learn more about Frolicon, an Atlanta spring tradition!

I told some other local (non-erotic) authors that I was going to Frolicon and I got some scared faces, so I figured it was going to be a lot of fun.

I’ll be participating in three author panels. The first is on Friday from 10-11:30 AM. It’s called 50 Years: The Future of Erotic Writing: Lessons learned from panelists on how publishing has changed with the times, what has worked, what is working and what’s on the horizon for authors and how old guard and new alike can take advantage of new technology to further their writing goals in the changing face of publishing.

I’ll be in two panels on Saturday. The first is from 10-11:30 Am. WriteSEX: A Writer’s guide to the Multitude of Layers and Functions of sex in literature. We are several authors with a variety of experiences in writing everything from mainstream to erotica and are the primary guide to writing sex. (I know that sounds a little megalomaniacal but I promise I didn’t write these blurbs, lol.)

The other Saturday panel is from 1:30-3 pm and it’s called More than 50 Shades: What’s it really like to write and get kinky fiction published? Get the scoop from five authors ranging from newly published to the more seasoned. BDSM authors talk about their experiences about writing, critique partners, working with editors, and getting published. Bring your questions!

I’ll also be roaming around passing out free books, signing book plates, giving out pens and bookmarks and postcards and other swag, so if you can be there, please come. If you can’t be there, wish me luck. I hear things get pretty wild.

Snippet Sunday: MERCY

I’ve been so busy lately–in a good way! Rather than think of something coherent to talk about this week, I’m just going to post one of my fave snippets from Mercy.

     “Matthew!” I was shocked to open the door and find him standing there. He’d never been to my place. It was a mess. I looked like hell in my ratty pajamas, my eyes red and swollen from crying. “I really can’t play.”

     “I know.” He breezed into my apartment, a market bag in his hand. “I haven’t come to fuck you.”

      He reached into the bag with a flourish, like a magician about to pull a rabbit from a hat. Instead he pulled out a pint of ice cream. I burst into tears.

     “I swear I’ll throw this at your head.” He turned his back on me. “Get into bed.” He rooted through my kitchen drawers until he found a spoon and returned, crawling under the covers beside me. It was just a twin, which made him seem even larger than usual, and he had to scoot close to me to not fall off the edge. He looked out of place in my tiny, messy apartment, and yet, right at home. Thinking about that, how easily he adapted to my squalid little surroundings, made me burst into emotional tears again.

     “Enough. Quit your crying. What happened?” I think he thought I was crying about my knee. I explained how I’d fallen, that I wanted to stay off my knee as a precaution. He was highly suspicious even then of my injuries, the pain he suspected I felt.

     “How long will you be off?”

     “Just tonight. Long enough for it to rest. To make sure there’s no serious damage.”

     He looked at me still, hard and assessing, and then decided not to speak. Instead, he pressed the freezing pint of ice cream to my nipple, and smiled broadly when I shrieked.

     “Are you hungry?”

     “Yes,” I said, although I wasn’t. He ended up eating most of the ice cream himself. Ice cream wasn’t something dancers ate before bed, but I took a few small bites to mollify him.

     “Look at you. Take a real bite!”

     “I am!”

     He scooped a huge spoonful from the bottom of the carton. “Open up.”

     I laughed as he brandished the spoon at me. “Matthew, stop!”

     “Open your fucking mouth.” He fed me the spoonful, letting me lick it off slowly instead of shoving it all into my mouth the way I think he wanted to. I teased him a little, using my tongue to do things to that ice cream that I usually only did to him. He chuckled. “That’s right, you eat it all, you little fuck.”

     “You’re trying to make me fat.”

     “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

     We laughed there together on my small, lumpy bed. I looked over at him, Mr. Matthew Norris sitting in my pitiful apartment, and I thought I would just die. I was so hopelessly in love with him. I looked away, because his blue eyes were bright and burning. Don’t look at me. You’ll see.

     “I wish we were down in my basement,” he said in a voice gruff with lust.

     “I do too, Matthew.”

Oh, sigh. Matthew Norris. If only he were real…