Red Lipstick Journals

WE'RE ON VACATION! LA-DEE-DA-DEE-DA!

2012-01-16T20:53:00.000-06:00

Hello everyone!

We're POOPED!

The members of Red Lipstick are on a much-need vacation! We will be doing this once a year for 4 weeks.

Don't go away! We'll be back in full-force on FEBRUARY 17th with new content, stories and a *New* Feature called Sunday Snippets!

Stay tuned!

Red Lipstick Journals

REESE DANTE - SILVERS VISUAL GENIUS

2012-01-15T22:32:00.003-06:00

Love this cover!

By Blak Rayne

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Time was ticking, I needed another NNS interviewee and fast, so I went on the hunt. When I search for someone to interview, I don't bother with the author chat groups. I much prefer to think and hunt outside the box - to find different people who contribute within the publishing industry other than authors, those that make our novels look and sound their best. People like the photographers, editors, book cover designers and marketers. After all, our books would be pretty boring without their indispensable knowledge and talent.

While I was searching google for book cover designers, I happened to come across this site under the name 'Reese Dante'. I read the site's information and looked at the book covers, suddenly realizing that I recognized most of the authors. I was certainly impressed and loved what I saw. Several days later, I was on Facebook and noticed the name Reese Dante... Could it be the same person? As it turned out it was the same person. I thought. "What the hell... What's the worst she can tell me? No?"

Luckily for me, she said, yes. Please welcome the lovely and extremely talented, Reese Dante!

Tell us about yourself, Reese.

I want to start by thanking Red Lipstick Journals for inviting me to this interview.

Hmm, about me.

I’ll keep this short and sweet. Not much to tell really. I'm a self-taught artist. I was always told art was a good hobby, but it didn’t make sense as a career. Rather naïvely, I opted to take the route of business school and got a few degrees in different areas then jumped into the corporate rat race. I hated it. It was fine at first, but never really satisfying enough. It became routine and monotonous so I knew it wasn’t where I wanted to ultimately be. I smile when I work on a design. I finally found my ‘happy’ place.

How did you become a book cover designer?

During my quest to find the ideal path, I had a friend release a poetry book and another released two music CDs. They wanted cover art. It never clicked for some reason. Here I was, trying to figure out what else I could possibly do and I totally missed the silly grin on my face as I worked on these covers. One day, Leiland Dale sees my art and asks me to do a cover for his first book. Sure, why not, I had done it before. So I did. He posted it on his Facebook page and the comments started coming in. He wrote another book, and I did another cover.

Leiland kept ‘putting my name out there’ every chance he had. By the time the third cover hit, I started getting more attention. Both he and my designs did all the advertising for me. I finally came out of my corporate hole and put myself out there. I started getting inquiries. I was shocked – people were interested. So I did a few more, and eventually landed my first job with a publisher a few months later.

As a writer, one of my greatest tools of inspiration is music. Where do you find the most inspiration?

I find inspiration in some of the oddest places at the most unexpected times. I’ve taken a break and gone to watch a television show with the hubby and sometimes I’ll see something in a commercial we’re fast forwarding that makes me stop and back up. Or an ad in a magazine, movie trailer, or photo. I’ve even spaced out while people are talking because they’ve said a word or phrase that gets my mind going on a particular design I’m thinking about. Music inspires me as well. I’ll hear a song and I’ve got my own version of a music video playing in my head. It’s almost like sensory overload at times. I’m thankful.

What is the process to creating a book cover?

I start with a spec and try to gather as much info as possible regarding the story, characters, etc. I either ask the author directly or do a few searches in various places to gather some intel if interaction is not possible. Then I shop for pics. I go to the stock sites or check my stock library to find the model that best fit the characters. If I need to make modifications, I do. Then I put it all together and play with the other environmental elements until everything flows well. Title text to finish it off then I present it to the author and make any necessary changes until the design is completed.

What is your favourite cover to date? Why?

I can’t pick ONE favorite. There’s a little bit of me in all of my pieces. I like each of the designs I create for different reasons. It could be the author, the story, elements of the piece, or the overall experience. So many are favorites whether the author knows it or not.

Can anyone hire you to do their novel covers?

No–you need to know the secret password :) Kidding.

I’m currently the Art Director at Silver Publishing and spend most of my time completing projects from there. I also do cover work for other publishers and self-published authors.

Do you do freelance?

Yes, when time permits. I’m currently not taking new client commissions. I try to make myself available to authors I’ve previously worked with in between my publisher work. But I’m already booked for the beginning of the year. I’ve created covers for several genres including romance, fantasy, sci-fi, westerns and more.

Website & Links:

http://www.reesedante.com/

http://twitter.com/ReeseDante

http://www.facebook.com/reesedante

*All the covers in this interview were used with permission of the artist. Thank you, Reese! ~ Blak Rayne

BlakRayne

‘Takingerotic to a sinful new level…’

©Authors Name All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Looking Good Naked

2012-01-15T00:00:00.000-06:00

By Dena Celeste

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

I rememberwhen that TV show How To Look Good Nakedcame out. Women of all shapes and sizes went onto the show and got a fewlessons on the difference between how they see themselves and how they reallylook. Finally, at the end of the show, the participant finds out that they willbe doing a nude photo shoot! They get all dolled up, pretty hair and make-up,and have professional pictures taken with only a sheet or strategic positioningto keep from showing everything.

There’s somethingto the idea of seeing yourself naked. It could be in the mirror, or inpictures, but both ideas have merit. Personally, I prefer pictures. It lets medivorce myself from connecting with the image too much, and thinking, “Oh, that’sjust me.” If I’m obsessing over the fact that it’s me in the picture, then I’llprobably start looking for the flaws. You know, my belly is too round, my boobsare too small, whatever it happens to be.

Getting morecomfortable with your naked body is important for many reasons. It’s importantto be able to love yourself as you are, especially when it comes to sex andrelationships. If you’re uncomfortable with being naked, being seen naked, thensex isn’t going to be quite as much fun. That’s not to say that loving yourselfas you are will prevent you from improving whatever you think needs it…butsince instant-fixes don’t happen, you need to figure out how to be happy nomatter what your body looks like.

There are afew ways to go about this with using pictures. You can do a professional photoshoot, which is definitely an option. These photo shoots can take place in astudio, or even in your home. They can be just about any style you can thinkof, like pin-up or burlesque, and can be very inspiring to both you AND yourlover!

Another wayis to take your very own pictures. Now, this may seem like an expensiveendeavor, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be. Tripods alone can sell forunder $20, and there are really decent cameras with self-timers for under $100.It’s probably better to have your own digital camera, since most people I knowaren’t too comfortable with one of those photo developers at the local storeseeing their naked pictures. The nice thing about digital cameras is that youcan take a whole bunch of pictures, and just delete the ones that didn’t turnout the way you liked.

The mostimportant thing you can do to feel more comfortable naked…is have fun beingnaked! Whether it’s a hot bubble bath, taking pictures to show off your beauty,or doing some naked yoga, get to know your body. The more you appreciate it andwhat it does for you, the easier it will be to see how gorgeous it really is!

©Dena Celeste All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Naughty Excerpt Day -- Bound by Temptation 1: Nigel & Lance

2012-01-14T06:31:00.001-06:00

By Kharisma Rhayne

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

<<-- Cover exclusive to No Boundaries Press. Alternative cover available at vendor locations.

Blurb:

Nigel is a professional sports player with a wonderful boyfriend at home. Their sex is always hot and Lance is always willing to do whatever it takes to keep Nigel happy. But, what has Nigel been hiding?

Excerpt:

As much as Lance tried not to respond, he knew fighting it was useless. Every time Nigel touched him his mind turned into mush and his cock got hard. He quit thinking and could only feel Nigel’s hands on his ass, knowing what was coming.

Giving in, he pushed himself against Nigel, feeling his arousal against his own. He heard a gasp as Nigel leaned over and brushed his lips against his. Realizing it was him that made the sound he knew, without a doubt, their conversation was over.

As Nigel felt Lance’s body relax, he knew they could enjoy the rest of their day. The conversation was over for now and they could enjoy each other.

It felt like forever had passed since they were in each other’s arms last night. Surprisingly, the longer they were together, nothing ever got old. Everything stayed new. Nigel desired Lance as much now as he did the first day they met.

Reaching to the back of his shirt, Nigel pulled it over his head and let it fall to the floor.

Vendor Location Alt. Cover

Instantly Lance latched onto a pierced nipple with his mouth. He loved Nigel’s bad boy look, the long hair, the pierced nipples and cock, the tattoos. It’s what made Nigel stand out. He had first been attracted to Nigel when he saw the huge dragon tattoo spanning across his back. Well, the muscles didn’t hurt either.

He ran his hand down Nigel’s muscular abs and heard him moan as his hand grazed the top of his cock barely sticking out of the top of the low slung waist. Urged on by the sound, Lance unfastened Nigel’s jeans, pulling them down as he dropped to his knees in front of him.

There was already a drop of precum glistening from the head. Game days were always great sex days. Nigel was overly stimulated and easily aroused.

Looking up at him, Lance licked the drop from Nigel’s rod and worked his hand up and down it.

Impatiently, Nigel grabbed the back of his head and pushed Lance’s mouth onto his cock, wanting him to take it deep. Thankfully, Lance willingly complied; Nigel was not in the mood to play games today. He was the warrior home from battle, needing an outlet for his energies, and Lance always built him up even further before bringing him down into a peaceful oblivion.

Nigel’s legs started to tremble as Lance sucked his cock and played with his balls.

Lance pulled away and stood up when he sensed standing was becoming a challenge for Nigel. He grabbed Nigel’s hand and led him into the dining room.

“We haven’t done it in this room yet. I want you to take me bent over the table,” Lance said in reply to the questioning look on his lover’s face.

Nigel strokes his own cock. It was clear that this first round was not going to be full of love and foreplay. He wanted Lance and he wanted him now.

“Take off your clothes and bend over the table.” Nigel knew his voice left no room for options.

Lance obeyed as he continued to watch Nigel stroke his cock. He walked over to the corner of the table, in front of his badass football player; spread his legs wide, and bent over the table.

Nigel let out a gush. “Like the view?” Lance couldn’t help but to ask.

You can pick up Nigel & Lance at the following locations:

No Boundaries Press

Amazon

All Romance

Barnes & Noble

Bookstrand

You can also stay up to date on giveaways & book releases by following my blog: HERE

©Kharisma Rhayne All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Twitter -- Facebook

TITS AND CLITS - BACK TO BASICS

2012-01-12T21:50:00.001-06:00

By Blak Rayne

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

I’m goingto start from the top and work my way down. The human body has numerouserogenous zones like the ears, neck, armpits, and thighs, and sensitivityvaries from person to person. What your neighbour finds enjoyable you may not.And each of these zones can produce a different level of arousal from mild tointense. For most women there are two primary erogenous zones that can bestimulated to increase and lengthen sexual pleasure.

Zone one isthe breast. The word ‘breast’ derives from the Old English breost, which meansbreast, or bosom. The breast in particular has nerve endings in the skin,concentrated in the areola and nipple, which are ultra sensitive in detectionof vibration and change in pressure. This means that pinching, licking, biting,or squeezing the nipple will generally cause arousal. It’s believed that awoman’s breasts encourage face-to-face sexual intercourse. And that men,breastfed as infants, never forget that nurturing sensation and will seek awell endowed partner later on in adulthood. Okay, I don’t know if that’s trueor not, but it does seem logical considering how human anatomy differs from animals.Humans are built to have sex and not just for procreation, we can have itstrictly for pleasure.

I trulybelieve the breast is a fetish for some ‘mastofact’, though the scientists can’tseem to agree. There is mammary intercourse otherwise known as ‘titty-fucking’,which is huge in the sex trade as a safe alternative to vaginal intercourse.

Zone two isthe clitoris. The clitoris is a nub of tissue located just under the clitoralhood and above the urethra opening and vagina. The clitoris is the mostsensitive of the female erogenous zones because it has the densestconcentration of nerve endings. Stimulation of the clit with a finger, tongue,or sexual toy like a dildo will cause arousal and in some cases an orgasm. Whenthe clit is stimulated it becomes engorged with blood, similar to the penis,and swells, and once orgasm is reached the vagina will flutter (contract andexpand) while excreting come. Nerves connect the clitoris to the G spot, an areaof spongy tissue located one to three inches up the (anterior) vaginal wall.

There isdebate as to whether these two areas are completely connected, and which, ifeither, triggers the other to respond first. Does the clitoris trigger the Gspot and produce the orgasm? Or is it the G spot that starts off the chain ofevents? Approximately 70 to 80 % of women claim they can NOT reach orgasm unlesstheir clit is stimulated. Other women claim vaginal is their only means tosexual gratification and still others say anal penetration produces the strongestorgasm. This doesn’t take into account other sexual reactions to heightenedarousal like female ejaculation and urination.

Afterconducting my research–reading and asking questions, I’ve discovered that each erogenouszone produces a distinct climactic feeling. In other words, the vagina may takelonger to stimulate to orgasm, but the orgasm can be quite powerful andlengthy, while an anal orgasm almost throbs and there can be multiples, and theclitoral orgasm is strong, burning in the front and causes numbing in the labia.So, what does this all mean? It means every female experiences basically thesame euphoric sensations, but uniquely built to suit her needs.

The physicalact of sexual intercourse is complicated to explain in medical terms. Scientistshave names for every inch of the female and male reproductive organs, and thearea surrounding them. But even after a hundred years of research, they stilldon’t fully understand how everything functions. I’ve even heard of women thatbring themselves to orgasm by a simple thought. But there is little informationavailable about this. Scientists know that the human brain contributes andcontrols our sexual enjoyment–mind over matter–but they can’t explain the exactmechanics. Is it the image of the man’s penis that encourages the first senseof arousal in a woman? It’s been proven that soon as a human sees the sexorgans or erotic stimuli the pupils dilate. Well, I think you understand what I’mtrying to say. We are all individuals and there is no exact science–no handbookto follow. So, just have fun and experiment!

Blak Rayne

‘Taking erotic to a sinful new level…’

2012-01-12T00:30:00.000-06:00

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Gypsy

episode of a new story

Jacqueline George

[Click this link , turn the volume low, and read on...]

Link to Episode 1

Beside them,John sat lost in his music, communing only with his fiddle. Again the musicspeeded up and the girls were dancing close together twirling against eachother, touching hands as they passed. John’s bow flew back and forth as themusic poured from his fiddle and Virginia’s mind was full of nothing but themusic and Sally’s live, generous body butting against as they turned. Sally grabbedher by the shoulders to whisper close to her ear.

“What?” askedVirginia.

“I said, ifhe doesn’t look at us soon, I’m going to kill him.”

John hadheard her, for he was looking at them as he played, the firelight glinting onhis wide smile and the flash of gold at his ear. He nodded them on, and broke into a new tune.

Sally tookher arm and pulled her to stand in front of John. Perched on his bucket, heplayed on, fingers twinkling and his bow skipping back and forth over thestrings. Sally stood in front of him and began to dance with her hips alone.She had raised her arms over her head and, with her feet apart, she lifted herhips with the music, to one side and then the other. Virginia stood beside herand tried to mimic her suppleness.

John watchedher gyrating hips as he played, and his smile looked wicked. Sally basked inhis attention and her fluid dancing became even more provocative. The musicslowly gathered speed and Virginia lost herself in the rhythm, waving her armsand thrusting her hips wildly until Sally gave a climatic shout and stoodstretched and glistening in front of John.

“Oof - I needa drink,” she said and reached for the cider.

“Well, whatdid you think, Ginny? Isn’t she the best?”

“She’s sosexy.”

“She isthat.” He held his mug out for Sally to refill. “Queen of the road. A realgypsy queen of the road.”

“Get on withyou,” said Sally. “You’re thinking with your balls again.”

“But he’sright,” said Virginia. “You can really dance.”

“I’m going toget something to sit on,” said Sally and disappeared into the caravan.

Virginialooked around her. The quarry lay dark within its walls, but a bright moon wasclimbing through the oak trees of the wood beyond the lane. The fire crackled,and she closed it up with a branch to let it flame again.

Sallyreturned with a rug that she threw on the ground against the caravan wheel. Shehad also brought a blanket. “Here, put this around your shoulders before youget cold.”

They sattogether, leaning against the wheel and sharing the blanket. John had stoppedplaying tunes and was quietly running notes up and down the finger board. “WillI teach you how to dance, then, Ginny?”

“You’d haveyour work cut out. I’ve got two left feet.”

“What do youreckon, John? Could we turn her into a dancer, do you think?”

John stoppedplaying. “Surely. Surely, and a very fine thing that would be too. You couldtour the country, the pair of you, and we’ll make our fortunes.”

“Ach - what adreamer you are, John. Play A BlacksmithCourted Me. This one’s Irish, Ginny, more or less. I like it; makes me goall romantic.”

John swunginto a slow introduction, and Sally started to sing.

A blacksmith courted me nine long months andbetter,

He stole my heart away, wrote to me aletter,

His hammer all in his hand he looked sobrave and clever,

And if I was with my love, I would liveforever.

It was ashaunting song, and the dark quarry made it more so. Sally finished singing andsipped her cider. “Like it, Ginny?”

“It’s sosad.”

“That’s truelove for you, I suppose. Wouldn’t be worth having, if it wasn’t sad sometimes.Give her The Fair Maid of Kent, John.This one’s English and not romantic at all. Just sex, sex, sex. Must have beenwritten by a man, eh, John?”

This tune wasstraight forward, simple, and Sally’s song told of a maid out nutting, and howshe gave all her charms to a young ploughman. She was right; no romance at all,but at least it was cheerful.

John laid hisfiddle in its case. “So, Ginny. Are you coming over to Somerset with us? It’llbe a grand trip, won’t it, Sally?”

“Yes, comealong. We’ll show you what travelling’s really like. There’s nothing like it,believe me. I just sit on my doorstep and Lady carries me on. I can seeeverything, and I have time to look over all the hedges. It’s not like rushingalong in your car at all. Then in the evenings we cook like this, and may be goto the pub and play some music for the locals. You could drown in free drinkssome nights.”

Virginia’shead was floating. It may have been the music, the moonlight slanting throughthe trees, or Sally leaning against her. Or it may have been the cider. Nomatter what, she wanted to go. She wanted to see Jack in his harness again,pulling the painted caravan along the back roads of Old England.

“Yes. Yes,I’ll come. Just tell me when.”

John raisedhis mug to her. “That’s the way. Now, drink up and we’ll put you to bed.”

Sally pulledthe blanket off her and allowed the cold in. Virginia had not intended to stay.A little cider would have done no harm, but the bottle was nearly empty and itwas too late now. She wanted to lie down.

Sally pulledher to her feet. “Come on, love. We’d better get you to bed while you can stillwalk. Give us a hand, John.”

They led heraround to the front of the caravan. Suddenly the long step up seemed too muchtrouble.

“You’d bettergo first, Sally, and pull her up.” Virginia felt confused as Sally pulled herup and John pushed from behind. The little caravan was dark and secret, androcked on its springs as she moved. Sally led her to the bed shelf at the backand put her hand on its rail. “Here, hang on to this and we’ll get you sortedin no time.” Then, looking past her, she said, “Bugger off, John. Give us a fewminutes.”

“Now, let’sget this off you.” She pulled the blouse over Virginia’s head, and unclippedher bra. She fumbled for the draw-string at the front of Virginia’s gypsyskirt, and slipped it and her panties off.

“Well, well,what a pretty lady you are, love. Hop into bed. I’m going to light the lamp.”

Virginiaclambered onto the bed and lay on her back. The miniature window in the backwall of the caravan let moonlight in. She heard Sally strike a match and shecould see her face clearly in the lamp light as she concentrated on adjustingthe wick. The patterned carpet lining of the caravan’s hooped above her. Sallyhung the lamp from a hook and went to the door. “We’re right, John.” Virginiaheard him answer from the distance.

The bed feltcomfortable. Virginia loved the cosy way it fitted across the caravan, and thetiny window that lit it. She liked the swaying of the van as Sally moved aboutand undressed. She knew she would sleep like a baby.

Sally liftedthe covers and said, “I’ll climb over you. Let me lie against the wall.”Virginia did not question what was happening to her. The strange bed felt so natural,no matter that she would share it with Sally. Afterwards she wondered that shehad been so accepting. Perhaps it had been the cider, but she let Sally slideover her and lean against the wall, resting on one elbow and looking at her.The soft lamplight glinted in her eyes, and Virginia smiled to herself.

Then John waswith them. He was already naked, and his hair was wet from washing in thestream.

“Bringanother pillow, John,” said Sally. “And dry your hair. Ginny don’t want tocatch her death, even if you do.”

Suddenly,Virginia was trembling. She was lying on her back in a gypsy’s bed, and hisgirlfriend was stroking her hair. Sally’s warm softness touched her on oneside. The other lay empty and dangerous. How had this happened?

When Johnslipped in beside her, his skin felt cold and moist. He laid a hard, rough handon her chest and lent over her to Sally. They kissed above her, near to her,just out of reach. And then John came to kiss her, long and slow. He kissedher, and her stomach leapt as he cupped her breast and slowly kneaded it. Herexcitement mounted, and increased as Sally took her other breast.

Sally waskissing her cheek and whispering into her ear. “That’s it, Ginny. Let it go...”

John slid hishand down over her stomach and she opened to him. His cock prodded against her,warm and resilient, and she gripped it. Its weight filled her hand and more. Hehad stopped kissing her now, but he played on, taking her pussy as his own. Sheturned to Sally as his fingers slipped over her hair and into her, slowly,again and again.

Sally hadpulled back and was watching her with eyes bright and curious. Virginia wantedto say something her but it was too late. She was slipping away and she turnedher head to bury her face in John’s black curls. The waves came to take her,rolling through her and scattering her soul.

She haddragged his hand from her but he gave her no rest. He rolled her towards Sally.For a moment she thought he wanted her to change places with Sally, but hishand on her hip held her steady. He wanted to take her from behind, and he pulledher back against him. He pushed forcefully into her but she no longer cared.She wanted him, wanted his cock, and wanted him to give her everything.

Sally hadwriggled onto her back so Virginia could rest on her shoulder, and they hungonto each other as John took her with powerful, measured strokes.

Afterwards,Sally gave her room to lie on her back again and she relaxed. John was silentbeside her and she could feel his breathing. The moonlight and lamplighttogether let her see Sally smiling as she brushed the hair from Virginia’sface. “Well, you’re a wild one, aren’t you, Ginny? I never guessed you had itin you. John’s a lucky boy.”

Virginiatried to move but Sally held her down. “But you didn’t...”

“Oh, yes Idid,” said Sally. “All by myself. That performance would have melted a saint.What do you say, John? Looking forward to the trip into Somerset?”

John, lying besideher, rested a hand on Virginia’s hip. “Yes, I believe I will,” he said.

Link to Jacqueline's home

been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Being Submissive by Dakota Trace

2012-01-11T10:59:00.001-06:00

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Giving up control. Seems like three simple little words, but saying them can be easier than the actual doing. In my private life, I’m the mom, the person in charge of getting kids to and from school, carting them to various activities, the family shopper, a short order cook (for those pesky kids who can never agree on what’s for supper), and even the bill payer. So needless to say I’m making decisions all day for my family. Remember those old Calgon commercials? There is many a day I yearn to say, “Calgon take me away,” but it never happens. Getting in a tub of bubbles would likely result in one of my three kids pounding on the bathroom door, wanting me to referee their latest fight from the tub.

So instead of relaxing in a soothing bubble bath, I relish the idea of giving up control in the bedroom. To let my mate be the dominant one – to call all the shoots (within reason of course. I trust my husband and after 17 years of commitment, I’d have to say he knows me like the back of his hand) But honestly folks if you’re going to submit to another sexually make sure you trust the person you’re with and have talked about what is acceptable and what isn’t. As a woman, my need to submit, to have someone else make the decisions is easily tolerated if not accepted by society. But this has me wondering. What if it’s a man who longs for the same thing? Should he automatically be frowned up on or criticized because he yearns for the same release from the stress of everyday life as I do?

So when I did some research online wanting to know what a man gets or expects to get out submitting to another, I ran across an amazing article on line by a submissive man – that was quite the eye opener. The link to it is here. If you have the time, read it. It’s quite enlightening. Without paraphrasing his entire article, I’ll just mention several of the highlights I got from it. The first is that while a man may be submissive in the bed room, he wants to be treated as an equal first and then a submissive second. This seems like an oxymoron but after reading further in, I understood what he was trying to stress. He may be submissive but is not a doormat. He still wants to be treated like a human being with feelings. The words are not interchangeable, peeps, despite what you may see in books or pornos. You can seriously do mental if not physical damage to a person by treating a man or a woman the way you see in pornos. (Just like watching straight porn, without kink, there is a huge chunk of fantasy involved. After all how many women do you know that jump the pizza guy, the cable guy or plumber? Or all three as the same time…LOL)

The next thing, I noticed was even as a submissive man, he still expects there to be give and take in the relationship. So the idea that a man submitting to a woman is giving up his masculinity or has become ‘pussy whipped’ is not true. His submission and desire to please fulfills one of his needs but he still expects the person dominating him to fulfill his other needs too, and isn’t shy about expressing those needs. I thought he was quite eloquent about the fact that while he longs to serve his partner, he doesn’t want his needs ignored. In fact, it’s a deal breaker, as I would expect it would be for any person in a relationship – kink or not.

So you tell me, do you think there’s anything wrong about a man wanting to submit in the bedroom? I don’t think so. In fact, if he does I don’t think he’s any less of man or weaker because of it. It takes a strong person, man or woman to give up their control to another. Ask me and I can tell you – since I’m the ultimate control freak in every aspect of my life but the bedroom. :D

©Dakota Trace All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

What's in Your Bank?

2012-01-10T03:36:00.028-06:00

By Kharisma Rhayne

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Yes, that is the exact bank I'm talking about. What's in your spank bank?

Don't play shy or unknowing -- and I don't care if you're male or female there's a list of people that simply just do it for you. Now I'm definitely not saying to scream out their name in the middle of sex, nor am I exactly saying to admit to your partner that you have one -- what I am saying is that any way to make sex better is a good thing.

The thing is, your spank bank doesn't always have to include naked images either. Sometimes it's that little bit of covering that makes someone even hotter. It allows your imagination to run away with the thoughts of what might be hidden.

Your spank bank can also be useful for those moments that a partner isn't around and you're pulling out the toys. What? Nothing wrong with it. Besides, toys can go as many times as you want them to and never need a break between rounds.

What's great about it is that it doesn't even have to include real people. It is, after all, simply your imagination. Did you spot a hot model in a magazine? Perhaps in a commercial? So what if you don't know his or her name. Name them what you want...and have them in a favorite spot in your bank.

Did you read a book and fall in love with the hero or heroine? The main reason I love to read is because I can see what I am reading. I form a look for each character and location. Did you fall in love with Jamie Campbell from Monica Mccarty's series? Maybe you're more for the vampires? So, maybe you couldn't get enough of Wrath from J.R. Ward's series. Maybe you enjoyed both characters. That's another great reason to have a "bank" on memory. You can switch the who midway through any fantasy.

Again, as I said above, a bank can be a good thing for a relationship. You just have to be certain, if you and your partner share these details, that you're both willing to hear who your partner lusts after. Just as much as a spank bank can be a good thing...if honesty is said to be wanted and isn't -- it can create an issues.

I've never really understood the way of it though. I mean, why be jealous of someone you think is hot? Chances of you meeting and falling into bed with very married David Beckham, just because he's in your spank bank, is very unlikely to happen. Are we going to end up in the freezer section of our local grocery store and stumble into a dark corner with Carmen Electra? Didn't think so.

So, who's in your spank bank and why?

2012-01-08T00:30:00.000-06:00

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Gods and Goddesses

Jacqueline George

Hera seducing Zeus

I suppose most cultures have ancient myths, but the ones I like bestare Greek. No surprise really. If you look at the Norse, Germanic and Celticones, they are very firmly about warriors and fighting, swords, gore, andmonsters. Such Gods as they have are violent and vengeful - not nice people atall. Roman mythology relies heavily on the Greeks, although they do have a fewof their own, again mostly about warriors and fighting.

First Nations’ mythology, both here in Australia and in North America,is very big on creation stories. Interesting, but... And I’m not going tocomment on the rich cultural stories of Asia, mostly because I don’t knowenough about them but also because they are largely a mix of religion and folkhistory.

I’ve got to come back to the Greeks with their tales of the Gods andmankind (with a liberal mix of in-between folk too). The thing that attracts meto these tales is that, while they do have many warriors and swords andblood-chilling monsters, their principle theme is love and sex.

I am intrigued by the Greek Gods. They are immortal and all-powerful,but show every human weakness and foible too. They are capable of greatness,but often behave like spoiled children to each other and to humanity. Thecontrast makes for great stories.

Another great thing about Gods is that they are physically perfect,and that means visual artists can strive to give us some of the most memorableimages of Western culture...

Take Hera as a start. She is the most powerful female deity, theprotector of women and the Goddess of marriage. Still, even she could not controlher husband Zeus. He did pretty much what he wanted and Hera was reduced toscheming and manipulating to get the things shewanted. There is a wonderful scene during the Trojan War when Zeus wasthreatening one of her heroes. She diverted his attention by making love to him,with the help of sister Goddess Aphrodite who made her even more sexy thanusual.

Such a wonderful wife still cannot content Zeus. He was off porkingevery pretty maid who caught his eye, often disguising himself to get what hewanted. He first seduced virgin Hera by disguising himself as a cuckoo.Princess Danae succumbed to what she thought was a shower of gold (which wouldturn any girl’s head). His most famous conquest was that of Spartan queen Leda,for which he disguised himself as a swan.

Poor Leda. Swans lack the interesting bits, so I suppose all she toshow for the experience was a few claw marks on her lower back, and a wet bum.Still, getting pregnant was inevitable, but as she immediately went off to getsome satisfaction from her husband, the four children she bore had a mixed lineage. They were all uniquelybeautiful, and a blend of immortal and human. One of them was the famous Helenof Troy.

Zeus did not limit himself to maidens. As an eagle, he seduced thebeautiful boy Ganymede and took him to Mount Olympus to be his cup-bearer.

Hera did not like the heroic children Zeus scattered over the earth,but she was afraid to touch them. Zeus was terrible in anger. Once, when she hadupset him, he punished her by hanging her naked from the clouds and giving hera good and very public whipping. So she made do with simply annoying Zeus’accidental children and their mothers, and general making life as difficult aspossible for them.

The Goddess we know best, and the one who has kept her following overthe millennia, is Aphrodite, Goddess of Love (or Venus, as the Romans calledher). Her stories would fill an encyclopaedia and more. She was the mostbeautiful of the Goddesses, if you can be more beautiful than perfect. She hadthe sweetness of character (most of the time) that you want in your mother, andthat men want in their dream lover. She was married - can you believe that? Theultimate MILF. Her husband was the smith of the Gods, the club-footedHephaestus. He was a really great guy. Straight as an arrow, simply spoken andable to fix or build anything. I expect you’ve met a few men with a touch ofhim in them.

It’s a funny thing, but the great, steady guys like that usually can’twin the glamorous chicks. Or if they do, they can’t hang on to them for long.Without blaming anyone, I have to report that Aphrodite was not the ideal wife.She was off making love to everyone she fancied. I suppose that, if you are theGoddess of Love, you have to keep your hand in but - poor Hephaestus. He wasnot totally stupid though, and managed to catch Aphrodite and her lover Aresthe God of War in a large net he hid under the marriage bed. When he had thetwo lovers naked and hanging in the net, he called in all the neighbouring Godsand Goddesses to see their shame. They were upset - at Hephaestus for beingcruel to Aphrodite. Doesn’t that sound human?

I’m afraid the Olympian Gods have faded from human consciousnessnowadays. You have to look hard to see the legacy of their beauty and folly inthe way we live now. Anglo-Saxon cultures are especially hard on love and sex,although it is possible that the God of War still presides at the pentagon andthe NRA. Christianity is not big on sex, although it does think love is a finething. That can lead to a certain amount of confusion, as celibate priests loveeveryone in their congregations but find it hard to love the most attractive oneswithout getting an erection. TV evangelists and senior politicians fightagainst Aphrodite, but often come up short and make more interesting storiesfor her encyclopaedia.

I suppose men still worship at Aphrodite’s altar (I leave it to yourimagination to picture just where that is located!). They are still direct andsimple, and fail to match female subtlety every time. Have you heard of TheJudgement of Paris? Paris, a simple shepherd asleep in the fields, was wokenand asked to award the prize of a golden apple to the most beautiful of threeGoddesses, Hera, Athene, and Aphrodite.

We know Paris was an idiot, because he agreed to do the job in thefirst place. I cannot imagine what was running through his mind as the threeGoddesses paraded themselves nude for his judgement. Did it dawn on him thatthere was no safe answer? By awarding the apple, he might gain the friendshipof one powerful Goddess, but he would also guarantee the enmity of twoimplacable and vengeful women. Still, he went ahead and let the three of them display their naked charms. Perhaps he was thinking he should commit suicide rightthere, because he would never be in such a paradise again.

Of course, all the Goddesses tried to bribe him and here Aphrodite was successful.She offered him the love of Helen of Troy, and that won the prize. It alsobrought about the tragic Trojan War, and sealed Paris’ fate into the bargain.Folly, folly, folly - but you have to admit it makes for good story telling.

Is there anything left of the Olympians? Here is some good news. Buyyourself a guide book and fly off to Greece. Don’t take a tour, but just cruisearound. If you manage to wander in the Greek countryside, immersed in itsbeauty and ancient ruins, without feeling something of the Gods in the air,there is no hope for you. (I don’t worry for you. If you were so unfeeling, youwould not be here reading about eternal love and sex...)

Link to Jacqueline's home

Panty Play

2012-01-06T08:00:00.000-06:00

By Amy Romine

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Panties are the item closest to a woman's body. They holdall the scent that makes a woman a woman. A panty fetishist can close theireyes and picture the woman who wore them, fantasize about them, use them inforeplay, masturbation, and sexual play.

Every woman has her favorite pair. Every day they arediscarded, dirty, into the hamper. They are seldom handled by anyone other thanthe woman who owns them. And panties are one of the most intimate items a womanowns.

“To have a woman'spanties is like having a little piece of her.”

Like any fetish, there are varying degrees.

The panty stealing teenager who is curious

The panty pocketing boyfriend who will use them to recreateyour latest sexual adventures during masturbation,

The voyeur who will request or steal the panties of thewoman he just enjoyed,

The panty wearer who enjoys the simulation of sexual contactwhen he or she wears the panties of their lover,

The panty bidder who will purchase panties based on the pictureof the woman wearing them,

he panty hoarder who will jump at any chance to secure panties,no matter who has worn them

Finally the panty connoisseur, aka the panty obsessed, whohas a very specific taste for the panty. Like a Sommelier, they are specificabout smell, taste, texture, and even style. These panty collectors can, ifable, spend bukoo bucks for a pair that is just right.

There are some ‘interesting’ sides to the fetish as thereare in any. In researching, not only are there choices in the person, and thetype of panty (ranging from the thong to the granny), but in some cases, thenumber of days worn, and the ‘type of wear’. Here is an example of adescription.

I wear panties/thongsfor at least 2 days and no more that 7 days non-stop. For a soft dirt I suggest2-3 days, for a strong dirt I suggest 5-6 days. You can choose among manyoptions: simply worn, masturbation, pee, and period.

I keep using the wine descriptionfor this interesting community, and it is a community. They take themselves andtheir fetish very seriously, which is understandable as the interest can be misconstruedas pedophilia (sexual deviation involving minors) or paraphilia (general sexualdeviation which can cause stress to source of the fixation).

Let me be clear, the panty fetish isneither of these, and responsible Panty Players are very strict about whom andhow the merchandise they sell and or purchase is obtained. An erotic fetish isthe sexual arousal a person receives from a physical object, or from a specificsituation. A sexual fetish may be regarded as an enhancing element to aromantic/sexual relationship "achieved in ordinary ways (e.g. having thepartner wear a particular garment)" This is no different than a shoe,stocking, long hair, long nails, or even smoking fetish.

We all tick to our own clock, and aslong as the participants are adult and willing, where’s the harm, to each theirown.

So, live responsibly, love wholly,and give openly.

Here are some panty quotes for yourenjoyment.

“Everythinghas its beauty, but not everyone sees it”

Ican't do the same thing every night, the same gestures... it's like putting ondirty panties every day.

BrigitteBardot

Igrew up with the mindset that when you get home from work, you go to dinner andwatch a movie. I don't want to be going to a club and taking off my panties.

BlakeLively

It'sa trip but it hasn't crossed over to the point where women are throwing theirpanties at me.

TayeDiggs

What'sthe worst that can happen? If it doesn't do well I can put on my big girlpanties, deal with it and move on.

HalleBerry

Readmore: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/panties.html#ixzz1ie5QNocj

©Amy Romine All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Spit or Swallow Winner

2012-01-04T19:00:00.000-06:00

I chose the winner via random.org. I was originally going to select the best comment...but they were all great. So, picking one would have been impossible.

So random.org picked comment 6 -- which was Tessa.
I checked your profile and your blog and don't see any contact information. So please email me and we'll work on getting your ebooks over to you. ( KharimaRhayne (at) gmail.com )

A Dark Embrace. The Final Chapter

2012-01-04T04:11:00.001-06:00

The Dark Embrace

By Brindle Chase

Our story continues (below are the previous chapters if you have not read them)

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Chapter Eight

Jennifer sucked savagely from Nicole’s wrist. Her hunger would never be as fierce as it was this first time. It was so very long ago that I was turned, but the erotic sensory overload I felt that very first moment I drank from my maker was never more intense.

Jennifer thrashed in my lap, both of her hands clinging possessively to Nicole as she drank. The chaotic squeeze of her slickness against the thrusts of my cock was more than either of us could bear. Together, we came. My new bride collapsed into my arms and I held her as the violent spasms of her orgasm racked her lithe body.

Katya moved in, kissing Jennifer, licking Nicole’s sweet vitae from her lips. As always, I laid back, watching the erotic beauty of my brides as they indulged in one another.

Needing her satiation, Katya pulled Jennifer from my lap and they fell into each other’s arms at my feet. Laurelynn moved into my vision and knelt before me. I ran my fingers through the tight curls of her hair, letting my fingertips graze her scalp and she moaned. I gave her my wrist and she bit in hungrily.

She took a long leisurely draw of my blood, her body trembling with excitement as she drank and then ducked. With no hesitation, she sucked my erection into her warm wet mouth. I hissed in pleasure as arcs of delightful sensation shot through me.

I looked to my brides on the floor as Laurelynn bobbed up down on my cock. Katya was spread wide, letting Jennifer feed from the inside of her thigh. Just the sight of them rekindled the urgency of my own desires and I clawed Laurelynn’s black hair in to my fist, driving her to take me fully.

Nicole bent over me, kissing my mouth deeply, then arching so that her throat was poised perfectly for me. I bit gently, letting my fangs sink into her perfect skin slowly. The fiery burst of her olden blood was a rush and I let it fill my mouth before swallowing the delicious essence.

Up and down I guided Laurelynn, fucking her plump brown and pink lips as she eagerly slurped the fullness of me. Each thrusting pump driving me closer to another orgasm. But I wanted her to feel her own and with me as Jennifer just had.

I pulled her hair up and she followed obediently, straddling my lap. She lowered herself, and I pushed up, burying my cock into her snug slippery depths as I sucked from Nicole’s neck.

Licking Nicole’s wound closed, I reached up and pulled her face to mine, kissing her in appreciation. Her tongue found mine and we embellished our love as Laurelynn bounced up and down on my throbbing dick.

I heard Jennifer squeal in delight and looked down, seeing Katya now straddled over her, facing opposite in the position someone cleverly coined as sixty-nine. Both my beautiful brides writhed in ecstasy, lapping wildly at each the other’s slick pussy.

The only dismay I felt at that moment was that I could not be inside all of them at the same time. Oh how dearly I wished I could fuck them all, to enjoy their delicious cunts all at once.

I drove my hips harder and deeper. Slamming my hardness deep into Laurelynn. Nicole kissed me, then broke away to kiss Laurelynn. She was so very patient, waiting her turn, but that would not suffice. As the rest of us indulged in our carnal pleasure, Nicole should never be made to stand by and participate in barely a tertiary manner. It simply would not do.

Standing, I cradled Laurelynn’s ass, carrying her with me and then knelt. She followed, still rocking her body hard against mine. I rolled so I laid flat and beckoned Nicole with a finger. She smiled graciously and moved to me. Lowering herself, she straddled my face and I buried my tongue into her sweetness.

I loved how she tasted, slick with desire and readiness. Laurelynn remounted and resumed driving herself up and down, taking me deep and hard. Her silken, snug grip was marvelous and the ecstasy she bestowed unto me, I gave into Nicole with tongue and fingers.

Dipping two slick digits into Nicole as deeply as I could plunge them, I curled them inward, dragging my fingertips across her inner spot. She quivered, gasping a throaty whimper. I added the final accent, sinking my fangs into the nook where her thigh met the smooth swell of her pussy and drank deeply. Her quiver became a violent thrashing and I wrapped my arms around her thighs, holding her to me while Laurelynn gyrated her hips furiously.

Moaning and sputtering in pleasure, Nicole slid from my grasp and rolled to the floor. Her chest heaved from sucking in deep breaths she did not need. Her body reacted instinctively to the orgasmic bliss surging through her. Her eyes shifted, our gazes locked and she grinned brightly.

I turned my full attention to my Laurelynn. Her smile, a brilliant white contrast to her dark mocha colored skin, flashed at me as I grabbed her hips. It is difficult to judge just how strong we vampires are and the older the stronger, but I would estimate I bear the power of twenty healthy men.

With an ease you cannot imagine, I lifted her and held her aloft so that only the head of my cock remained inside her. She felt so very good and she grabbed my forearms to brace herself. Knowing what was coming, my grin matched hers.

Like a jackhammer, I slammed my cock up into her. Her ass slapped hard against my hips with each rapid penetration and she squealed her ecstasy. I could feel her tightness quivering, clasping at my hardness as I drove it in and out with furious need.

Katya appeared to her right, beamed at me, and then reached between Laurelynn’s legs. Adding to the pleasure I was giving, she strummed a fingertip across my dark bride’s clitoris. Sucking in a wavering breath that sounded almost in pain, Laurelynn collapsed forward, coming in seizures. I held her steady and finished my own pleasure, thrusting a bit slower, but still deep and hard into her pussy as it spasmed with erotic bliss.

I too came with a growl, dropping Laurelynn into my lap and filling her completely with my twitching cock. Waves of molten hot gratification swept through me, surging up the length of my cock held slick and tight inside my bride.

I closed my eyes and laid, simply basking in the pleasure still pulsing through every fiber of my body. It was glorious.

Laurelynn pushed off me, and I heard her slide to the floor with the rest of my brides. Lazily I ruffled my hair, finger combing it from my face and I felt a hot wet mouth suckle my spent cock. A hand encircled the base of my shaft and stroked tenderly as her tongue flickered against the head. Devine.

I smiled, keeping my eyes closed and allowed her to taste me all she desired. Her technique was unusual, hurried and enthusiastic, so I knew it was Jennifer who pleasured me. A treasure.

“Thank you, Jennifer,” I said. It is not simply polite, but it was also important they understood I truly appreciated them. A master must always be gracious. How could I not be?

There was some shuffling and a new mouth took my hard erect cock. Her lips rolled around the head while she dabbed the underside with her tongue. Katya’s favorite trick. My mind’s eye could envision her long sleek blonde locks cascading down her back, and swaying with the bob of her movement. Her classic Nordic features set firm with the determination she always applied to lovemaking. I smiled again. Heavenly.

“Simply precious, Katya.”

A hand slid up the inside of my thigh to join Katya’s momentarily and then she retreated to let my next bride have her turn. The incredibly soft, plump lips were unmistakable, as Laurelynn took me deep into her sweet sensual mouth. Her tongue slashed up and down my throbbing length as her hand squeezed the base. My eyes remained closed, enjoying their game of guess who, but I could see in my imagination her bronze fingers curled around my peach colored hardness. Her pillowy lips suckled me with leisurely patience. Marvelous.

“A pleasure, my Laurelynn.”

My senses are extremely acute and I could feel her lips stretch into a smile. I was almost tempted to open my eyes, just to see the beauty of her beaming face, but they were not yet complete.

Obviously, Nicole was next. She replaced Laurelynn, squeezing my head through her soft lips. Her fingers slid under, cupping me, fingertips caressing along my scrotum. My eldest bride knew me so well. A shiver of erotic delight shuddered through my legs and I could see her in my head, Nicole’s loose, auburn curls dangling across her pert little breasts as she took me in and out with increasing intensity. Magnificent.

Silky tendrils of her legs brushed against my thighs as she bobbed up and down, sucking my cock faster and faster. The warm moist press of her lips tightened and her fingers faintly scraped from my scrotum to encircle my balls with delicate and exquisite sensation before gliding back to repeat the wonderful caress.

The pressure built beneath her light grasp, as if she were molding it herself. Shaping my release to explode in a design she desired. All the while taking me in and out of her succulent mouth. Fire surged through me, reaching the shaft and I could feel the thousands of minute muscles within me clenched, tensing for her grand finale.

And then I came. My brides held me, their soft slender hands caressing me, holding me as I writhed in ecstasy. Nicole kept me held fast in her soft slippery mouth through it all. Wave after wave of incredible pleasure was had and I sank in on myself as the orgasm finally waned.

I opened my eyes and smiled on my four beautiful brides all knelt before me. It was moments such as right then I could not distinguish as to whether I were eternally damned or infinitely blessed.

I looked to Jennifer and her green gaze sparkled brilliantly. Her lips tinted crimson from feeding.

“There may come a day when you no longer regret joining me as the damned.”

“I regret nothing, Matthew,” she said, using my name for the first time. I smiled and then cast it across all four of them. We had much to celebrate and the night was still young.

“Tonight, we hunt.”

~ finis ~

©2010 Brindle Chase. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

FEAR TO FERVOR - REINCARNATION OF THE VAMPIRE

2011-12-29T22:00:00.000-06:00

By Blak Rayne

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

According to historical reference vampirism has existed for thousands of years. Stories of bloodthirsty demons, which are supposed precursors to the modern day vampire, first appeared in ancient cultures such as Greece, Roman and Mesopotamia. Though the true origin of the vampire, as we recognize the creature, more likely stems from 18th century, southwestern Europe.

The first written works that established a vampire archetype were John Polidori's eighteen-nineteen novella ‘The Vampyre’, which inspired ‘Varney the Vampire’ and ‘Dracula’. The idea for Polidori’s novella was taken from Lord Byron's unfinished short, published in eighteen-nineteen under two titles ‘Fragment of a Novel’ and ‘The Burial: A Fragment’. But it’s the eighteen ninety-seven publication of Bram Stroker’s ‘Dracula’ that has become the bible for our modern day vampire and subsequent vampire fiction. Bram Stoker captured the folklore and enhanced it, by drawing on the nightmares of the era.

I’ve often wondered how a creature so reviled and feared in ancient Europe has become a modern symbol of erotic appeal in the western world. What caused this transition? Have we lost our fear? Has our perception of old beliefs changed so much?

Hematophagy can be combined with a sexual act. Some people do actively practice blood drinking for sexual gratification. And, of course, there is the rare hereditary disease porphyria in which the heme, an intrinsic part of hemoglobin, isn’t made properly. It was believed that people afflicted with this disease might be vampires and werewolves to a lesser degree, giving us a possible foundation for the vampire legend. Biochemist, David Dolphin, also proposed the idea of this link between porphyria and folklore in nineteen eighty-five. Is this where the erotic becomes intertwined with the vampire myth? A vampire must first seduce its victim then provide sex during feeding.

Aside from humans, there are animals and insects that suck blood; the most famous is the vampire bat. Obviously the idea of ingesting blood in order to prolong life is a very old conviction. Common characteristics associated with the undead are a youthful, but anemic appearance, extra sharp canines that can drain the victim of blood, the inability to produce a reflection and a fear of sunlight.

From an author’s perspective I love vampires and the mysterious world they represent. Who doesn’t want to live forever, enjoy eternal youth and superhuman strength, and have the powers of darkness at your fingertips? Is it eroticism that lures us? Well, I can tell you this much, something's happened within the last hundred and fifty years. Not only are we fascinated we’re infatuated. Vampires have become a part of our literature and entertainment. They’ve given rise to the era of ‘goth’–clothing, blood clubs and cosplaying. These creatures of the night have achieved cult type status. We no longer fear them, but embrace and revere their near demonic attributes. It’s strange what time and perhaps a romanticized imagination can do.

My love of vampires started with reading Bram Stroker’s Dracula then continued with the movie. The film had drawn out scenes of sensual flirting and heart-pounding foreplay. It was romantic in yet erotic, boarding on pornographic, but a feast for the eyes. I sat at the rear of the theatre, popcorn bucket clutched at my chest, nibbling and watching in tears as Dracula breathed his final words to Mina before dying. Yes, I cried. Everyone in the theatre stared as I blubbered and blew my nose into a napkin. I was the only person that pitied Dracula. Everything he did was for love. What could be more romantic? My God people what’s wrong with you? He was just a tortured and misunderstood soul. Okay, so I root for the bad guy once in a while. Call me twisted. LOL

Almost every story with a vampire in the cast has an erotic undertone. Dracula spawned numerous novels for both the YA and adult publishing industry. The whole concept sooths our need to conquer immortality and provides a glimmer of what it really means to have power. And besides, what would longevity of life be without sex? Can you imagine having sex without the fear of aging, disease or pregnancy? I think we find vampires so damned attractive because there’s a slim chance they just might exist and anything possible is plausible.

BlakRayne

‘Takingerotic to a sinful new level…’

2011-12-28T01:52:00.002-06:00

KETA! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!

Okay, you're right. This isn't an erotic post, but hey, we have to talk about something other than SEX once a year. Er . . . maybe we don't.

Let's compromise: I tell you ten things I'm thankful for this Holiday Season, you tell me one thing you're thankful for in the comment section below. If you do that and you're following RLJ, I'll send you a copy of my latest EROTIC release Guilty Pleasures and Chasing Love (two stories in one) FREE.

Ten Things I Am Thankful For This Holiday Season

Clean slates

Around the holidays we start to think about saying goodbye to the old year and hello to the new. The New Year ushers in clean slates—an opportunity for us to change, add positive elements to our lives or remove negative energy that surrounds us daily. What if we lived in a country where any type of change was forbidden and you could never wipe the slate clean?

I’m thankful for clean slates.

Little things

Unspeakable tragedy lurks all around us; a teen beaten to death in New York, a horrific hate crime in Pennsylvania, the shooting of a priest in a small town. Big things. And then I realize how truly fragile life is. I have a place to live, cars that run, heat, and electricity—little things we take for granted.

I’m thankful for little things.

Groaning Tables

My cupboards are full and so is my refrigerator. During the holidays my table groans with platters of food, laughter of children and smiles from elderly members of our family. Did you know that one out of eight children in the US go to bed hungry?

I’m thankful for groaning tables.

Sweet Visits

I love that my children still like to hang out with me, truly want my company. Tell your children you love them every time you share a sweet visit, hug them, let them know how blessed you are they were sent to journey through life with you.

I am thankful for sweet visits.

Meows and Barks

Cats have saved owners from burning buildings, dogs have rescued drowning children. Your pet in most cases will always choose you over anyone else in the world. Your furry friend gives you unconditional love, friendship, and loyalty. Give it back and you’ll never be sorry.

I am thankful for meows and barks.

The joy of writing

I’m horrible at math, not very good at biology or science either. But someone gave me a gift I’m sure I’m not worthy of. If you open a dictionary and choose a word, 90 percent of the time I can tell you the meaning. One thing I can always count on is the ability to string words together. I’m gonna ride this one out for as long and as far as it will take me.

I am thankful for the joy of writing.

Random acts of kindness

A random act of kindness is a selfless act performed by a person wishing to either assist or cheer up an individual. There will generally be no reason other than to make people smile, or be happy. An oft-cited example of a random act of kindness is stopping to help someone who’s out of fuel or has a flat tire. You can’t leave your name and you refuse to accept money in exchange for your assistance. You merely stopped to help because help was needed. We shouldn’t help people based on merit, but on need.

I am thankful for random acts of kindness.

Freedom

Almost 5,000 US soldiers have died in the Iraq war and 1,000 in Afghanistan. We must all realize that giving one’s life is the ultimate sacrifice. These heroic men and women have lost everything. This Holiday Season, thank them/pray for them for surrendering all they ever were or could ever hope to be to ensure our freedom.

I am thankful for freedom.

Friends and family

I saved the best for last. I’ve made wonderful friends over the years and have been blessed with the most awesome family. At Christmas and every day of the year I’ll remember to be thankful for friends and family. Remember, family and friends are like stars. You don’t always see them, but you know they’re always there for you.

I am thankful for friends and family.

Blessed Holidays to you and yours, Keta Diablo

OKAY - YOUR TURN! Tell me one thing you're thankful for below and I'll send you a FREE EROTIC Naughty Book! Don't forget to leave your e-mail address.

Why Men Want Sex

2011-12-23T05:22:00.000-06:00

Why is Sex Important to Men?

By Brindle Chase

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Why is Sex Important to Men?

I think this question has been on mind of women since the dawn of time. Where women value sex as much as men, it is for different reasons. Out on the town, shopping for a fun one night stand differs little between men and women. It’s simply a primal need to feed.

But when it comes to a committed relationship, sex takes on a very different function for men and women. Its no longer just for fun. Now everyone has a different sexual appetite, but in general, committed women desire sex much less than their male counterparts. Particularly after “the honeymoon phase”.

The woman wants emotional connection, affirmed physically on occasion, but more often by sitting, talking, and sharing time together. This is just as, if not more satisfying for them. Whereas men need that physical bond. To men, sexual connection to their partner is critical. For him, it is the same affirmation as hand holding is to the woman.

It should be no surprise that given the choice between telling her how his day went and receiving a blowjob, 99% of the time he’ll take the knobber. I know, MEN! But you see, its not as selfish as it might seem. The sexual contact with his partner is very bonding to him. It means much more to him than talking about their day.

I for one HATE talking about my day. You’ll never hear me say “Ohmigod, guess what happened at work”. The only time I talk about work is if it has direct impact on my family. Changes to my pay, position or benefits. Otherwise, I’d really rather not talk about work. I just did 12 hours of stuffing my hand into a blender to bring home a paycheck for her, and now she wants me to relive it for her? Is she sadistic? Does she get a thrill out of extending my misery? No. You see, for her, that emotional connection is precious to her. Its not that she wants you to relive the hell you just went through. She loves you and wants to empathize with you.

It’s the old adage “women are from Venus, men are from Mars” thing. The problem is, that these needs conflict. Men will, but don’t want to talk about their day. Women will, but often would rather not, put out for their man. A committed relationship works best when its 50/50. She wants to talk about your day and hers. So do it. He wants some loving, so do it. In fact, tell him about your day as you go at it. Might be fun to try! Okay, probably not all the time, but just to change things up, why not?

“So I saw this really cute dress at… yeah, right there baby… harder. But I tried it on and it was too loose. I think I lost a dress size… Damn baby, that feels so good… Do you think I lost a dress size?”

Now, she says, everyday? Why not? You want to talk about your day, everyday. You love him, right? You enjoy sex, right? So what’s the problem? And on the other side of the coin. Yes, talk to her every day, listen to her every day. Share with her every day. The more you meet your partners needs, the more likely they will be willing to meet yours.

As it should be.

©2011 Brindle Chase. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Cumming for Christmas

2011-12-22T00:01:00.073-06:00

By Kharisma Rhayne

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Last time we hung out, we talked about how you like to give (or get) your blog jobs. The more we talked about it and the more I thought about it. The more I thought about it, the more I came to think the bigger part of head is if you spit or swallow.

So, I chatted with a few of my gym buddies. To them, it's a huge turn on if the female swallows. It heightens the experience for them, turns them on more. Now don't get me (or them) wrong -- they simply enjoy having it done. But there are always ways to make things better.

I decided to think about why I give head. It's something I don't do that often (imagine that and all the other things I write about and try out), so when I do I figured that I had to have a reason for it. My conclusion? I like to see my partner even more turned on. It turns me on to turn him on. In that same aspect, the friends from the gym, they get more turned on seeing someone go that "extra mile" for them.

Since my last entry here, I did a few little mentions of it on Facebook and got a number of responses. Only one matched my thoughts on it (which surprised me). It seems most partners are a lot more accepting int he semen area than I am. I have to thank my totally AWESOME Facebook friends for being open with me and chatting about this. I got responses from men and women, straight and gay. It was so great to hear everyone's thoughts on this topic. I've chosen 10 (in random order) to share with you below.

So, the one I'm in agreeance with said:

Spitter here!!!!!! Actually...it doesn't even Make It that far hahahahahaha I give a Dayum fine BJ...but don't let it leak into my mouth or I will Puke LMFAO

Yes, I know, shame on the "queen of steam." Honestly, I've only let one guy even get it in my mouth, to my credit, I did swallow, but it took everything I had not to throw up on him. For me, i really think I need some mind altering connection with someone and I'm not sure those exist.

Some other thoughts are:

1) -- swallow or why bother!
2) -- Swallow. Waste not, want not. Just sayin'.
3) -- Depends on how well behaved the guy is. Or if there's hair...

4) -- Swallow. I don't see why women would want to swish it around in their mouth. I can deep throat, so if I can keep the semen in the back of my mouth I don't have to taste it at all. Besides, I love to suck and don't have a problem admitting it. LOL

5) --Spit discretely, when no one is looking or woman up and swallow. Public spitting is rude. Don't ruin a perfectly good blow job by acting like it's going to make you hurl (God! I spend way too much time thinking about these things!)

6) --Regarding BJ's, I don't know from direct experience, but I've heard that sometimes "spit or swallow" depends on what he's eaten. lol *drinks pineapple juice* lol

7) --I love giving them so much, but in truth, the final result isn't the thing that I love best. I'm more the teasing type. I am both a spit and swallow girl (all safer sex rules applying, of course). A lot of it has to do with taste, consistency, how I'm feeling, position and proximity to a convenient get-rid-of place. Some guys taste better than others -- those I will be happy to swallow anytime. Otherwise, it's touch and go. On the other hand, I'm bi, so I think it's interesting that I would never consider 'spitting' when it comes to a woman. That's just part of the enjoyment

8) --I spit~ just something about it seems nasty

9) --I am all for bj.s I prefer my partner to swallow, but it isn't a dealbreaker. Some guys, though, it is very much hotter to shoot on their face, or chest. I don't like it if they spit it out immediately - the best guy I play with goes into the bathroom and spits it out there. When I give one, I don't usually swallow. It is kind of how I am in the moment. And how the guys is responding. I am not averse to it, and sometimes it is great to do it and keep the guy's cock in my mouth to tease. I will be honest, sometimes I tie a guy and suck him and part of the play is licking him after he comes, so I swallow.

No, of course, there is the option of trying to flavor the semen (pineapple seems to be a huge favorite).

What about kissing your partner after oral. Will you kiss him after he's gone down on you? Will he kiss you after you've gone down on him?

So now...play along here....you ARE paying attention...right? Most of you know how I love my rope and handcuffs ;)

Leave a comment below between now and December 26. In it...tell me spit or swallow or nowhere near my mouth. Also be sure to tell me why or your thoughts/reasoning behind your choice. Does it have to be someone special?

I'll pick ONE comment from those listed on December 27 and you can have 2 of my ebooks (anything already out or anything that releases Jan, Feb or March--I have 5 of them in those 3 months)... Jacqueline George is adding an ebook copy of Working for Jeremy....Dakota trace is offering an ebook from her backlist and some beautiful RTC cards.....and Keta is tossing in 2 copies of her latest book. Finally, I'll toss in a $15 gift certificate from NBPress to use in their store front.

So, let's hear those comments and see who grabs the "goody bag." Debate away (politely please).

Most importantly -- I hope you all have a safe & wonderful Holiday season ♥

Twitter -- Facebook

THROUGH THE NAUGHTY GLASS

2011-12-20T01:05:00.000-06:00

By Blak Rayne

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

There are as many brands of cigarettes asthey are forms of sexual fulfillment and of course this leads to fetish. You'vegot BDSM, ménage, oral stimulation, masturbation, orgies, swinging, cyber, role-playingand the list goes on and on. One of the most popular sexual pastimes isvoyeurism. Think about it… What easier way to achieve self-gratification thanto simply look. And it doesn't matter whether it's a dirty magazine,pornographic movie or an erotic novel, each has voyeuristic qualities. Sure, youcan spy on your neighbours, but the threat of winding up in jail is very real.So, it's easier to watch in other ways. I find the most alluring medium thatsatisfies my visual need is erotic photography, which brings me to my guest,photographer Dan Skinner. His work is well recognized and frequently used forM/M erotic novel covers.

Tell us what's on your naughty nightstandand how it got there?

I don't have a naughty nightstand, but I dohave quite a collection of naughty things under the bed. Lol

Are you spontaneous with your lover? Or doyou prefer routine?

I like spontaneity. I prefer jumping out ofa closet rather than just coming out of one.

Is your photography influenced bypersonal fantasies?

My photography is usually my personal fantasy.

Thanks so much for taking the time to share a little about yourself Dan, and your exquisite art!

Dan is @ Deviantart http://danthedanimal.deviantart.com/

Dan is also @ Deviantart http://cerberuseros.deviantart.com/

BlakRayne

‘Takingerotic to a sinful new level…’

Naught Excerpt Day - KETA'S NEW RELEASE

2011-12-17T16:45:00.000-06:00

BUY CHASING LOVE &
GUILTY PLEASURES FOR 99 CENTS!
KINDLE: http://amzn.to/tJzKyM
NOOK: http://bit.ly/rIBcL1

In Chasing Love, Maddy has searched for love and acceptance her entire life. She finds more than she bargains for after picking up a man in a bar while visiting her aunt in Iowa. Warning: EROTIC HORROR. Explicit sex scenes.

Guilty Pleasures- Zoe and Michael's marriage is in deep trouble. Michael works late every night and Zoe struggles through endless of hours of loneliness and need. Desperate for attention, she joins a chat room called Tie Me Up and meets the charming, seductive Master D. WARNING: Explicit sex and bondage.

Hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to leave a review on my Kindle page for the stories. This is the nicest thing you can do for an author.

I hope everyone has a blessed Holiday and may all your reads in 2012 be fantastic and memorable.

Please follow my Romance Blog KETA'S KEEP for updates about my latest releases.

EXCERPT FROM CHASING LOVE:

A tall, lean, ride-em-cowboy slid into the empty stool to my left. With my eyes cast down, I glanced at his shiny boots and tight denim jeans—narrow at the hem and all the way up his muscular thighs. My heart rate sped and a lonely ache thrummed against my rib cage. Yep, too long without a man.

It struck me at that moment; most women looking for a tumble in the sheets would detect a hot, moist sensation between their legs, a normal precursory to fucking. Yet all I could think of was his strong arms holding me, the sound of a his heart beating in sync with mine, and his warm breath against my ear. Perhaps the doc is right. It isn’t about the physical joining of bodies for me, but the fusion of hearts, of minds. I’d journeyed down the same road all my life, walked a never-ending path of a lost soul looking for acceptance and devotion.

“You counting the hairs on my forearm?” the clear, resonant voice said.

I drew my gaze from his arm and looked into his eyes. Blue. Bluer than a cloudless sky at morning. “Sorry, I drifted there for a minute.”

“You are one, aren’t you . . . a drifter? I mean, not born and raised in Clarence?”

“No, not born in Iowa. I’m from New York, here visiting my aunt Pearl.”

“Pearl,your aunt is Pearl Waldron?”

I nodded.

“Buried her husband not long ago.”

“My uncle Max, yes.”

“My condolences,” he said, extending his hand. “Name is Cleve, Cleve Porter.”

I felt my lips twitch into a smile. “Cleve from Clarence. I like it. It has a . . . a homey, wholesome ring to it.”

Straight, white teeth smiled back. “That’s us, wholesome top to bottom.”

I liked him, and he looked into my eyes as if the feeling could be mutual. Here’s where the old nagging self-doubt walked in. Maybe like all the rest in my past, he wanted sex—sweaty, one-night bliss. Nothing more. Oh, I couldn’t think about that now. I wanted that instant gratification too. But one could hope something between us would ignite, spark a desire to meet again. And again.

I pushed the conflicting thoughts from my mind, had to hope Doc Tenwyck was wrong, that sometimes one-night-stands led to long-term affairs of the heart. Time to find out. Never one to stand on pretense, having learned long ago to ask for what I wanted upfront, I drew a silent, deep breath. “So Cleve, you live near by?”

The bartender dropped a newspaper onto the shiny bar in front of Cleve, smothering his answer to my question. “That makes four, or is it five now?” the man said. “Iowa City has one sick son of a bitch on their hands.”

I looked at the headlines and an icy chill ran down my spine. Another Woman Found Dead Along County Road.

Cleve looked up from the newspaper. ““What does a man have to do to get a beer around here?”

“Sorry, Cleve, had a little run on thirst for a minute. The usual?”

Cleve nodded.

The bartender returned with his beer and I spit out the questions hanging on my tongue. “How do they know the killer lives in Iowa City? Have they got a suspect?”

“They don’t know,” Cleve interjected. “And that’s why they don’t have any suspects. Most of the cops in this neck of the woods struggled through Criminology 101.”

“Ah, that’s not fair, man,” the bartender said with a frown. “They’re dealing with a professional, a serial killer who’s been plying his trade for years.”

My mouth went dry and I swallowed, hard. “What is his trade?”

“Knives,” the bartender said. “He likes to carve up his victims before he puts their lights out.”

My stomach flipped. I’d had enough of death and dying; didn’t want to spend my night out on the town talking about knives and serial killers. In fact, the entire conversation had sapped my prior thoughts of passion and love.

I dug in my purse for my billfold and keys, dropped a five-dollar bill on the bar and turned to Cleve. “I best get going. Aunt Pearl will start worrying soon.”
After sliding from the stool, I started for the entrance and called out over my shoulder. “Nice to meet you.”

Before I made it to the truck, footsteps fell behind me. “Wait up a second.”

I drew a deep breath and turned to face Cleve.

“Sorry ‘bout all that talk of killers and knives. Sort of spooked ya, huh?” He took a few steps toward me, his adorable smile calming my rattled nerves. A bronze hand came out and warm fingers stroked my cheek. “Before all that stupid talk, you asked me where I lived, and I didn’t have a chance to answer you.”

“I did . . . but I think―”

“Don’t think. Just go with your gut feeling. You came into Clarence for a reason, and I don’t think it was for a glass of beer. Besides, you look more like a wine lady to me. Am I right?”

God, he was a smooth talker, and the most handsome men I’d seen in eons. Under an umbrella of bright stars, the blue eyes sparkled like shiny gems. “You’re right about the wine. I do prefer Chablis over beer.”

“I live two miles from here. Come home with me.”

I crooked my neck to the right and looked at him in a new light. His face was all manly angles and planes—high cheekbones, straight nose and strong jaw. The bartender knew him, which meant he wasn’t a loner passing through town. I wanted him, longed to have those strong, tan arms holding me, those lush lips nibbling on my ear and whispering sweet words of love. Even if the words weren’t true, I could pretend for one night. Just one night. I needed a man,yearned to belong to another human being if only for a short time.

He must have sensed my hesitation. “Let’s cut to the chase. You want me. I see it in your eyes.” He nodded toward the bar. “I saw it in your eyes back there too.
And God knows, I want you.” He cupped my face in his hands. “Let it go, all other thoughts and worries. Just for tonight.”

Just for tonight. The words acted like a balm to my troubled soul. “All right, just for tonight,” I said with a tentative smile.

“Follow me, and stay close. The deer are running this time of night.”

“Right,” I said. “Close.”

* * *

BUY CHASING LOVE &
GUILTY PLEASURES FOR 99 CENTS!
KINDLE: http://amzn.to/tJzKyM
NOOK: http://bit.ly/rIBcL1

2011-12-17T03:58:00.002-06:00

Naughty Excerpt Saturday

Its our pleasure to present a naughty excerpt from Anne Rainey, featuring her latest release, Sam's Promise, Black Water: book one.

from Sam's Promise
By Anne Rainey

Blurb:
Sam Jennings promised his father he’d always take care of the woman who yanked him and his four brothers out of foster care. When his adoptive mom has a near-fatal heart attack, Sam knows it’s past time to live up to his word.

As he sets out to put the Blackwater Diner back on its feet, he runs into his first snag. Waitress Julie Rose’s sweet curves and long legs are driving Sam to distraction. Even his brothers aren’t immune to her kind heart. But Sam is determined to be the only man in her bed.

Julie doesn’t regret the years she lost caring for her grandmom, but now, between business classes and her job, she’s left with very little time and energy for dating. Then there’s her policy about never getting mixed up with the boss’s son. But Sam’s hard body and wicked ideas have Julie forgetting all about annoying things like rules, and she accepts his invitation to show her all she’s been missing.

Sam is more than willing to take things slow as he teaches her all about the pleasures of the flesh. Luckily for him, Julie is a darned good student…

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Excerpt:

“Everyone has a part of you, except me.”

“Oh.” Julie didn’t know what to say. Sam had completely undone her with his stark confession. “Any thoughts on how to fix this little problem?”

“Give me a part of you, Julie. Give me the most intimate, sweetest part of you.”

“Yes,” she answered, her body suddenly ablaze with sensation. Caving in to his erotic demand was the easiest thing she’d ever done.

Sam’s lips drifted back and forth over hers before he gently pulled back. He was aroused. His fierce gaze and the hard length beneath her bottom testified to the fact. Her pussy throbbed as she imagined his thick cock stretching and filling her. Julie started to bring him back to her mouth, anxious for more, but he stopped her.

“What is it?” Had she done something wrong to ruin the moment?

“You haven’t been with many men have you, sweetheart?”

His question wasn’t critical, but Julie still felt like a lumbering giant in a china shop. “How could you possibly tell that from only a few kisses?”

His smile was gentle as he said, “It’s in the way you look at me. As if you want me in sixty different ways, but you aren’t sure how to go about it.”

Her gaze shot to his chest, unwilling to watch if he laughed at her. “I haven’t had a lot of opportunities to experiment.”

Sam tugged on one of her curlers. “Look at me, Julie.” She squared her shoulders and met his gaze. “How about you experiment with me?”

Oh, now she was starting to get the drift. She let a small smile slip as she asked, “You want to be my canvas, is that it?”

He chuckled. “Sort of. That’s what foreplay is for, to tease and play.”

“And if I do something you don’t like?”

“I’ll like it. As long as it’s you, I’ll like it.”

“And here I thought guys went for women who knew their way around a man’s belt.”

His hands smoothed their way down her back to her bottom. He cupped and squeezed her through her flannel gown. “I don’t know what other men want, nor do I much care. All I know is what I want, and I want you comfortable. For now, just let all your worries go, Julie.”

“That doesn’t sound too difficult.”

He pulled her closer until his cock was pressed into the seam of her buttocks. Julie moved her hips back and forth, teasing them both.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hmm?”

“How much is not much?”

Her stomach sank. “Oh, lord.”

“I need to know, are you a virgin?”

“No, it’s not like that. But I can count on one hand the amount of lovers I’ve had and still have a finger or two left over.”

His eyes shot wide. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.” She pushed against him, not willing to be humiliated by her lack of experience no matter how badly she wanted him. But he was about as movable as a cement wall. He wasn’t budging. “Let me go.”

His brows drew together. “What the hell for?”

“Because I don’t need you staring at me as if I’m some sort of loser.”

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” he quietly explained. “I’m surprised, that’s all. I mean, a woman as smoking hot as you should have men lined up on her front porch.” He shook his head. “I’m glad they aren’t, because I seriously don’t share well with others.”

She squinted, still leery. “You don’t think I’m hopeless, then?”

He licked his lips and looked at her chest, as if mentally picturing her naked breasts. “You’re the furthest thing from hopeless, sweetheart. Sexy, delicious and overdressed, but not hopeless.”

Sexy and delicious, yeah, that works. She swallowed hard as his hands began to massage her backside. Sam had somehow managed to wiggle her nightgown higher, exposing her thighs in the process. His rough fingers there, teasing, nearly had her moaning, and he hadn’t even gotten to the softer parts.

“Jesus, Julie, we need to lose the clothes. And the rollers.”

Her hands flew to her head. “Wow, I actually forgot I had them in.”

“Here, let me,” he offered. It took him a few tries to figure out the catch on the side of the foam curler, but once he had it, Sam made quick work removing them.

“I’m a little bit impressed with your skills, you know,” she admitted.

He chuckled. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Product Warnings

Contains explicit language, a sexy carpenter, and extra helpings of naughty fun under the stars. Heat and increased heart rate may help burn off extra holiday calories.

Buy links:

now available on the Samhain website, Amazon Kindle and B & N Nook.

©2011 Anne Rainey. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

SWEET BOOTY

2011-12-16T02:24:00.004-06:00

By Blak Rayne

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Okay, you’re a man who finds the oppositesex attractive. And maybe, you’re favourite hunting ground is oh…let’s say anightclub. The music, lighting and general mood has this excitement about it–the basic atmosphere, energizing. Youknock back a couple of White Russians for courage, while keeping an eye on allthose young bodies gyrating to the music. From the moment you set foot on thatdance floor you’re on the prowl. What do you seek? What catches your eye first?There’s a woman across from you. Her hips are swaying to the rhythm and handsclapping. She’s wearing this slinky little number and it happens to be red. Youlike red, so you move in. Then you notice the outline of her ass through thesheer material–hot damn, she isn’t wearing any panties. Bingo!Your heart’s racing, you’re already saluting the flag and you haven’t even seenher face yet. But you know she’s just got to be hot with a sweet booty likethat!

Now, same scenario, but you’re a manlooking for a man. What turns you on? Do you look for a nice set of eyes or areyour eyes focused on a part of his anatomy that’s a tad lower? Oh come on we’veall done it! We see someone who sparks our curiosity then we’re checking outthe tight ass and wedding tackle. And if you tell me you haven’t you’re a liar.I was single once. I’ve had my fair share of men. LMAO

It’s human nature to check out the package. When it comes to dating and mating rituals, people work by instinct and thelure of what we find at primordial level to be attractive. There’s also aformula involved, not consciously recognized, but it’s there nonetheless. It’ssomething Mother Nature gave us. The use of pheromones is one, a healthy appearanceis another, body language and, of course, our physical being. It works the samefor the animal kingdom. When animals are in need of mate they seek out thestrongest and healthiest partner possible. This is done purposely to ensurethat future generations will have the best genetics, which translates tosurvival of the species. We, as in humans, do the same. Scientists have provenit. When we’re young and the maternal/paternal time clock starts to tick, we goon the prowl. The whole idea of dating is great, but there is a significantalmost animalistic meaning behind it. We need to procreate just as the rest ofthe creatures on this planet. In order to do this our partner needs to meetcertain criteria - size, intelligence, physical as well as psychologicalhealth and, of course, we want a partner with sexual prowess. The initialattraction of ‘looks’ and an emotional bonding later are a way to separate what wereally desire and what’s need. If you’ve noticed most beautiful women havethese partners that I’d classify as geeks. And you’re left wondering… What inthe hell did she ever see in him? I can guarantee he’s got the brains, thefinancial security, there’s an emotional bond and he’s hung! LOL

Here’s a list of the most popular bodyparts, ten down to number one, that we’re always tempted to ogle and even trytouching when on the hunt.

His Body Parts:

10 – Shoulders

9 – Chest

8 – Biceps

7 – Lips

6 – Tongue

5 – Hands

4 – Hips

3 – Abs

2 – Penis

1 – Booty!!!

According to experts and all those lovelypolls on the Internet, the ass hasit! Can you believe it? LMAO I must admit, a nice tight set of buns does makethe view worthwhile but I prefer what’s in the front. Now let’s check out thewomen.

Her Body Parts:

10 – Hair

9 – Neck

8 – Shoulders

7 – Hips

6 – Legs

5 – Feet

4 – Lips

3 – Waist

2 – Booty

1 – Breasts

So, there you have it folks…we’re all justcattle farmers searching for the next prized bull or cow.

BlakRayne

‘Takingerotic to a sinful new level…’

2011-12-14T00:30:00.000-06:00

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Porn, Men,
.....and Me?

Jacqueline George

Everyone can recognise porn when we see it. Porn is sexportrayed in a light so repulsive that we are turned off rather than on.Erotica, which is perfectly acceptable nowadays, does exactly the opposite anderotica is what I read - and write.

Simple, isn’t it? I should be a legislator somewhere.

Except, of course, nothing is that simple. After all, onegirl’s piece of red hot, anal sex might cause her mother to lose her lunch.(Unless, of course, mother has been enjoying just that for years. Now there’s athought.) So whether a book, film, painting is erotica or porn might depend asmuch on whose panties you are sitting in, as what the work in question actuallycontains.

Men don’t seem to have this problem. They don’t agonise overcategories; they simply want to know whether it gets them hard or not. I canunderstand that. Both types set out to get you horny, and the more effectivelythey do it, the better they are. Trouble is, men get turned on by such terriblecrap. Go and visit literotica.com.Without being rude to the minority of writers trying new things there, most ofthe stories are completely terrible. Unrealistic, unimaginative, unsympatheticand, worst of all, badly written. In spite of all that, they are very popular.

Let’s face it, if no-one is watching, men would happily porkalmost anything. They see nothing wrong with the phrase “home, family, andcasual sex with anonymous strangers”. Listen - men think differently. So you would expect them to like differentmagazines, different DVDs, and spend too much time surfing around thepornucopia that is the modern internet.

Does that mean men are completely without taste when itcomes to sexy reading? I don’t think so. They might get turned on by a simplepiece of porn, but they also recognise a great erotic novel when they find one.

The real issue here, the piece of grit in the oyster, is howwomen feel about men and their porn. Many women treat Penthouse in much the same way that a Jew might treat a Nazi partymanual. They feel threatened. My man is looking at pictures of that slutinstead of giving all his attention to me. And she looks terrible. Thosestocking are ridiculous. No real woman would ever sit with a leg draped overeach arm of her chair. No-one wants to see so much.

Except men. Men want to see that much. They think the girlsare being very generous, laying out their charms that way. Men love all thepink frilly bits and dream of the opportunity to investigate them in real life.It does not matter that in real life the model might have an unpleasantcharacter, or constantly chews gum to keep her few brain cells ticking over,her picture has all of a man’s attention. Don’t kid yourself that the realthing would not focus his mind even more acutely.

So what should women think of men and their porn? You couldjoin in, I suppose, if you could find something that turned both you and yourman on. That works, but it needs a lot of input from the woman and generally welike exciting things to spring out of the blue, not be carefully planned by us.

You could just let him get on with it. After all, it’s muchbetter for him to be sitting in his den drooling over unbelievable internetporn stars than chasing around after the dolly birds at work. It’s not as ifyou lose anything by his hobby; he will still have enough energy for you, ifyou ever find the time.

Let me tell what the smart woman does about male porn. Shelearns. If porn is what her man yearnsfor (and he does, I guarantee), she joins him surfing now and again, picks upsome ideas, and then offers him the real thing. Much better than second handpictures in a magazine or on a computer screen. You know what men respond to,so why are you hanging back? You’ve heard that porn is addictive, well, now youcan be his drug of choice.

Now before you get all snooty about males and theirprimitive urges, let me share a few recent erotic romance book covers with you.This is truly fantasyland because, let me assure you, not one in a millioncowboys looks like this!

Link to Jacqueline's home

Internet Sex Survey Reveals Surprises

2011-12-08T23:55:00.000-06:00

Google search does more than collect data on what you're shopping for these days. Not long ago Dogpile, a search engine commissioned by Google, Bing and Yahoo, compiled some stunning information. The criteria had to include the word "sex" in the search and/or similar variants. The results were surprising and gave sex therapists new insight into what turns men and women on.

Another good outcome from the poll? Therapists are now able to tell their patients they're not deviants when it comes to sexuality, but actually quite normal. The results surprised counselors and therapists alike.

For instance, straight men prefer heavier women to thin women and find feet erotic. Both gay and straight men had favorite body parts - chests, butts and feet (in that order). Other popular word searches included "group sex" with men polling in twice as often as women. Straight men prefer to watch amateur porn, while dominatin and submission ranked high with straight women and gay men.

Not long ago, there were only 90 porn magazines available to those who enjoyed the activity. In comparison, over 2.5 million porn sites exist on the Internet these days. Conflicting opinions from sex therapists differ on why men and women search out Internet porn. Some feel it's purely out of curiosity, but two well-known authors who co-wrote A Billion Wicked Thoughts insist the search data proves sexual arousal and desire motivate them to seek out the sites. Most of the viewers were not one-timers, but returned again and again proving they truly enjoyed what they were viewing.

Oh, yes, another interesting result: Straight women enjoy reading about and watching man-on-man love, but only when the focus is on emotion, not sex. Hmm, this leads me to believe women might feel the same when it comes to reading Gay Fiction.

How about you? What word or words would you type into a search engine to appease your libido?

©Keta Diablo All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Head Games

2011-12-08T03:55:00.046-06:00

By Kharisma Rhayne

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

There are many names for giving a blog job (giving head, blow job, sucking cock -- you get the idea) and there are even more ways to do it. The one thing I always go back to in my posts here is: know your partner. I don't care if you've been together a month or six years -- you have to have an open line of communication in aspects of your relationship. However, people tend to forget that when it comes to sex (or some are just too embarrassed to speak openly and honestly about it). While it can be difficult to do, it will be the best thing you've done for each other and your relationship.

You want to be satisfied in all sexual areas and you should do the same for your man.

When I mentioned blow jobs this morning, Kage Alan (another author) made the comment: Blow jobs are like handshakes; they're either firm and impressive or limp and annoying.

WOW! Right? I hadn't thought of it like that, but as I ask around, it seems it's very true. Any blow job simply is NOT a good blow job. For so long I had been under the impression that any attention there was good. Although, as Kage also mentioned, even if it was bad, the receiver really should fib and be appreciative. After all, (my thoughts at least) you did put their "urine unit" in your mouth with the desire to make them happy.

While it's true that you can gauge some of how you're doing by their reaction -- it's not always fool proof. Grabbing your head and pulling it closer could simply mean that you're doing it right or it could mean that just a little like this or that could *hit the spot* even better.

Ask! If he won't just tell you, be creative about finding out. You could do something and ask him if he likes that or if he would prefer this (and do something else).

Men like different types of men and women. They all have a preference. With that, they all have a favorite sex position. In the same manner, they all have different best blow job techniques. So, just because your ex loved it when you did this or that (and ask yourself--did he really? Or was he being polite?), it doesn't mean that your current partner will enjoy the same.

Experiment with various pressures with sucking, licking and teasing, cock rings, using your hand at the same time, playing with their balls, teeth (yes, but carefully) -- there are so many ideas that could be tried. Try different positions. He doesn't have to be standing and you kneeling -- He doesn't have to by lying on the bed with your over him.

Want an added bonus? Get him fresh out of the shower (or while he's in it). The hot water increases sensitivity. Also, as Kage mentioned -- get him a nice manly light scented body wash -- makes him smell delicious and also gets away from soap residue.

Allow me to also give a big thank you to Kage Alan for his humor and making me laugh while I was writing this. ♥

So, tell me -- how do you like your blow jobs?

GYPSY A Serial Story by Jacqueline George

2011-12-06T00:30:00.000-06:00

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Link to Episode 1

Gypsy

episode 4 of a new story

Jacqueline George

A kilo ofrolled gammon and a chunk of home-smoked speck - that should be enough, shethought, as she made her way down the quarry lane again. I wonder how he’sgoing to cook it. He said it would be Slovak gypsy cooking - what’s that? Kebabs? Is that what they eat in Slovakia? Itmust be the easiest way to cook on an open fire.

Shep came upthe lane to meet her, and lead her down to the caravans. John was basket makingagain, sitting on the ground with his back to the caravan wheel. Threecompleted log baskets sat beside him, and he had nearly finished raising a fourth.

“Ah, milady,and bringing dinner too. What have you got? Welcome, sit down.”

Virginiapassed him the butcher’s parcel. “Pork. Free range, from local pigs.”

He unwrappedthe package. “Good. Very good, indeed. We shall eat well tonight, so I’d betterget started, hadn’t I? Do you fetch some water while I poke up the fire. I daresay you’d like some tea?”

She took thebucket to the far side of the quarry where a path had been worn down to the stream.It led to a flat rock that she could stand on to dip her bucket. It was asecret place, shaded by willows and brambles. The only sound was the sluggishpassing of the water. She drew her bucket of water and checked it forinadvertent visitors. This is reallysimple, she thought. No taps and pipes, no water rates, just take the waterwhenever you want it. Still, carrying a heavy bucket in the rain wouldn’t bemuch fun. Or taking a cold bath in the stream in winter. I’d probably staydirty.

John set thekettle over the fire and passed her the makings of the tea. Then he produced awooden cutting board, set it on the footboard of his caravan and started dicingthe meat. Shep sat hopefully beside him but had no reward for his politeness.Once the meat was done, John started on the vegetables.

Cooking wassimple. John used a heavy, cast iron pot on a tripod over the fire. The onionswent in first, along with a large knob of butter and some pork fat. He setVirginia to stirring, and sat watching and sipping his tea. The meat came next,and when that had been seared all over, water and the rest of the vegetables.Virginia saw chopped celery, tomatoes, red peppers and chilli, and babyturnips. Then dried herbs, followed by pepper, cumin seeds and a dessert spoon ofpaprika.

“Well, now.That should do very well, I believe. Do you sit and stir, so it don’t stick. Iexpect Sally’ll be along presently, and then you can take the stirring turn andturn about. I shall just finish this here basket.”

Sitting andwatching John work was a pleasant way to spend the afternoon. With strongfingers, he wove the raw withies into place, raising the basket until he couldtrim the stakes and start on the finework of the rim and handles. He workeddeftly and quickly, giving all his concentration to the task. When he hadinspected the finished basket and trimmed off the last end, Virginia surprisedhim by clapping. For an instant, he gave her an embarrassed smile.

“That’s anice basket,” she said.

“Ah, well.I’m no master, that’s certain, but it’ll do well enough. How’s dinner looking?” He brought two greencorn cobs to the pot and stripped their husks and beards. The corn was youngand not yet ripe. He shaved the milky kernels off into the pot. “That’ll giveit a bit of body,” he said. “Now, where’s Sally got to? I was expecting herearly.”

She came soonafter, astride Jack and leading a smaller black and white pony. “Hey, Ginny. He’s got you cooking then -what’s for dinner? John, you’d better get Jack a saddle. I’ll swear my arsewill never be the same, riding like that.”

“You couldalways walk, you know. Did they get a good feed?”

“Yes. Yes,they did well.” She came to look into the pot. “Looking very pleasant, Ginny.Just let me wash some of this horse off me, and I’ll come and give you a hand.Are you going to be a gentleman and stake Lady out for me, John? She’ll wanderelse.”

Sally cameback in clean clothes, with wet hair. “Move over, Ginny. Take a rest. What doesit taste like?” She blew on the stirring spoon to cool it, and gave it a lick.“Coming on nicely. And the meat - oh no. That’s got a way to go yet. Oh well,we’ve plenty of time. John’s got some scrumpy somewhere.”

John came upfrom the stream with a full plastic flagon, dripping wet. “Here we are. Devon’sfinest, and chilled too. You know scrumpy, milady?”

“Of course,but I don’t drink much of it.”

Johnchuckled. “Yes, well, no-one drinks much of it at a time. But this is the goodstuff, all the same. Straight off the farm, and from last year’s apples.” Hepoured a little into three cups and passed them out. “Cheers to you both!”

The scrumpytasted dry and rich, a cider for grown-ups, with scarcely a bubble in it.“Good?” asked John.

“Very good,”said Virginia, “But very strong. I shall have to drink slowly.”

John splashedsome cider into the pot and asked, “Ready for the new potatoes, do you think?”

“I believeso,” said Sally. “Did you get any mushrooms this morning?”

“I didindeed. A cap full of penny buns. We shall eat like kings tonight. I’ll putthem in later.”

Virginia satsipping her scrumpy and watching Sally stir the pot. This was a good way to endthe day. The evening light had begun to fade and they would be eating in the dark.Suddenly, Sally handed the spoon to John. “Here, you stir for a while. I’mgoing to dress Ginny up for dinner.” She reached for Virginia’s hand. “Come on,let’s go and have some fun. You can’t have a gypsy dinner dressed like that.”

Virginia hidbehind Sally’s caravan to take off her jeans and tee shirt. Sally brought twoskirts, both long with ruched tiers and swirling colours. She held the one thatwas mostly green against Virginia. “Now that will suit you very well. Try it,and then pull this over your head. It’s grown a bit small for me, and if itsuits you, you’re welcome to it.”

The skirt hadan elasticated waist and a draw string, and reached nearly to Virginia’sankles. The top was Sally’s style, a loose peasant blouse with a scoop neck inlight, creamy muslin. Virginia fell in love with it and pulled it over herhead. Her clothes felt light and free. “Do you have a mirror?”

“Just amoment. Take off your earrings and try these. I’ve got others.” Sally took thegold hoops from her ears and passed them over. They looked far too big.Virginia would never dare wear anything so obvious.

Sally cameback with a mirror the size of a notebook, far too small but at least she couldsee her earrings. She moved her head from side to side. “I wish my hair waslonger. And black like yours. Brown is boring.”

“Ah, getaway. You look just fine. John’ll be falling all over you. Let’s go and seewhat he thinks.”

John lookedup from the pot and whistled. “Now there’s a fine sight indeed. A pair ofsisters. We shall have to have some music later on. Come and try this, girl.”He dipped the spoon and held it out to Sally. “I believe it’s short of a littlesalt.”

“No, no. It’sfine. I’ll get the bowls, and you can pour me some more scrumpy.”

Virginia saton the grass to eat her dinner. The stew had a dark red sauce, rich withflavours. Sharing the meal in the gathering dusk, seated at a fire with herfriends, seemed to her the way people should live. She drank more cider, andfelt it going to her head.

“I believe it’stime for some music,” said John. “Now where is my fiddle?”

[Click this link , turn the volume low, and read on...]

He brought itfrom his caravan and sat on a stool by the fire. He tucked his fiddle under hischin and plucked the strings for tune. A single adjustment, and he laid thefrog of his bow against the strings and smiled at the girls. His eyes closedand he played a long throbbing note that grew in volume until it filled thequarry. He launched into a gentle melody, and Sally reached out her hand. “Comeon, Ginny. I’ll show you how to dance.”

Sally stoodopposite her, holding the sides of her skirt in her hands. She started withslow swaying steps, swishing her skirt from side to side as she went. Withoutthe cider, Virginia would probably have stayed on the grass. Now she did herbest to match Sally, swaying, turning, slipping a little side step into herstriding. Behind her, John had come to the end of his melody and played thesame long note in anticipation.

Sally stopped,poised, waiting for the music. The tune broke with crash into a fast, insistentrhythm. Sally jumped and began to dance, smiling at Virginia and urging her tofollow. What was she dancing? Virginia struggled to understand but there seemedno pattern, no logic to it. Sally was skipping and stamping, swaying her hips,and Virginia could not follow.

“You’rethinking too hard,” shouted Sally. “Just dance!”

Virginia letherself go. She did not care how her feet danced, but she snapped her fingersand danced. Sally was twirlingaround, her arms outstretched, and Virginia twirled with her. Abruptly, themusic stopped. Sally held her skirt wide, and waited for John to play his slowmelody again. This time she stood still, hands over her head, lifting her hipsfirst to one side and then the other, provocative, erotic and female. Thesimple movement, so natural to Sally, felt clumsy to Virginia. Sally, flushedand with a glint of moisture on her face, smiled for her and urged her on, and Virginiafound herself mirroring the sexy dance and its earthy enticement.

Beside them,John sat lost in his music, communing only with his fiddle. Again the music speededup and the girls were dancing close together twirling against each other, touchinghands as they passed. John’s bow flew back and forth as the music poured fromhis fiddle and Virginia’s mind was full of nothing but the music and Sallylive, generous body butting against her as they turned.

Sally grabbedher by the shoulders to whisper close to her ear.

“What?” askedVirginia.

“I said, ifhe doesn’t look at us soon, I’m going to kill him.”

John hadheard her, for he was looking at them as he played, the firelight glinting onhis wide smile and the flash of gold at his ear. He nodded them on, and broke into a new tune.

Link to Jacqueline's home

Guest Blog: Cassandra Carr -- Made-to-order Romance Heroes – If Only!

2011-12-05T04:54:00.005-06:00

Content Advisory: the below contains graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Have you ever read a book and thought to yourself, “This author is INSIDE MY HEAD” as you read the description of the hero? Well, that’s not by accident. We writers know what our readers like. They’re called archetypes.

Arch-e whats?

Archetypes (pronounced arc-et-types), and there are eight of them for men. The funny thing is, these archetypes don’t just apply to romance, and they don’t just apply to books. They’re everywhere. *cue spooky music*

The Eight Male Character Archetypes

1. The Chief: think Captain Kirk from Star Trek. This character is the classic alpha hero – protective, loyal, courageous. Unfortunately, that means he’s also often overbearing and excessively given. The chief is often a CEO or other leader.

2. The Bad Boy: *shiver* think Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing. This character is one of the most unstable and unpredictable of the archetypes. He’s often harboring resentment at something or someone, but is also able to turn on the charm, as we all know. Ahem.

3. The Best Friend (also known as the beta hero): think Ducky in Pretty in Pink. One of the more sympathetic archetypes. Who can’t feel for a guy who’s pining after a woman who’s pining after another man? He’s practical and thinks of others before himself, sometimes to a fault.

4. The Charmer: think Ferris in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Everyone loves to hate this character type, because no matter what happens he comes out on top. This archetype works far better in comedies than dramas. I mean, who wants a smooth talker when the chips are truly down?

5. The Lost Soul: think Damon in The Vampire Diaires. He’s related to the bad boy, and he may seem like a bad boy, but he’s not. He’s conflicted, he’s tortured. He doesn’t quite fit in and can’t understand his place in the world. He usually doesn’t have many friends, and is often pining for a woman he can’t have.

6. The Professor: think Frasier on Frasier. This guy is logical, but can also be emotional and a little unstable. He’s not the loudest guy in the group, but he’ll stand by you.

7. The Swashbuckler: think Hans Solo in the Star Wars movies. This guy gets things done. He’s a daredevil, and that doesn’t always make the best mate. But women flock to them like bees to honey anyway.

8. The Warrior: think Officer John MacLane in the Die Hard movies. How does this guy differ from the swashbuckler? He doesn’t want to be a hero. He just wants to live his life in peace, but he always protects the underdog. If there’s an injustice, he’ll work to right it.

So there you have it. The next time you read a romance and the hero particularly appeals to you, figure out which archetype he is. It might be one of the keys to finding more books and authors you really like!

Which archetype is your favorite? Why?

* * *

HEAD GAMES EXCERPT:

“I can’t take it anymore!” Leo Laporte, goaltender for the Buffalo Intimidators, glared at his teammates as they glided past him after the third goal in the first ten minutes of the game was scored. “You guys either play some fucking defense or I’ll jam my stick where the sun don’t shine! You got that?” Crouching down into his stance, he banged said stick on each post just as he did before every faceoff at center ice. Looking up, he saw the head coach, Tom, waving at him. A quick glance to Tom’s left showed his goaltending partner, Scott Schaffer, warming up. “Fuck!”

Tom called a time-out, and Leo skated to the bench, bracing for the tirade. “You guys need to get your heads outta your asses, pronto. You’re down by three already and the game’s hardly even ten minutes old. Since you don’t seem to want to play for Leo tonight, we’ll see how you do with Scott in net.” Tom threw a sympathetic look Scott’s way. “Good luck saving anything with these jackasses in front of you.” Tom wasn’t known for mincing words, and tonight was no exception.

Leo opened the door to the bench and squeezed around one of the team’s hulking defensemen as best he could.

Glaring at the man, he thought, Slug’s not good for much tonight. Certainly not getting out of my way.

The guy was built like a tank and made a much better door than he did a window, as Leo could attest on that third goal. The puck had been in the net before Leo had even been able to react.

Leo clapped Scott on the shoulder. “Good luck, man.”

Scott nodded and took the ice. Performing a few quick stretches in the crease, he raised his catching glove to signal his readiness to continue play. Leo sat down, taking a long pull from a water bottle he’d grabbed from the shelf in front of him. No one said a word to him, which was just fine.

The team responded to Scott being in net and scored two goals by the end of the first. Leo stalked into the dressing room, heading straight for the can. Just as he’d planned, by the time he got out the second period was about to start. Tom told him he was going to continue to play Scott to see if they couldn’t salvage the game, and Leo nodded. It irked him that he’d been left out to dry, but he also knew damn well they’d done the same to Scott in the past. It was one of those weird hockey things no one could put a finger on, and Leo didn’t even try.

After trundling back to the bench for the second period, his stomach growled. The noise caused his mind to wander, straight to the tall, curvy woman with a mess of curls his hands just itched to plunge into. Right now Kelly Chase was probably pulling her famous apple pie out of the oven at the bistro where he and Scott had been going for dinner after games for nearly a year. Thinking about seeing her made his cock harden inside his jock and he willed it down. Having a hard-on when wearing a cup was a pretty damn unpleasant experience—one he wasn’t eager to go through at the moment.

He’d bet she knew he’d been pulled, but he’d also put money on the fact that if anyone made an ass-hatted comment about why she’d shut them right up. Kelly knew her hockey, and she watched every game on the big screen TV housed behind the counter at her bistro as best she could in between cooking meals for the customers. He could almost smell her special sour cream apple pie. She only made it on home game days when she knew Leo and Scott would be coming in afterward for their post-game meal. She’d even named it after the team, calling it Intimidating Apple Pie. There was sure as hell nothing intimidating about it, but it was definitely sinful, which was just how he liked it.

Thinking about her and her pie brought his mind to other subjects, like what she was most likely wearing that night. It drove him crazy the way she dressedin these cute little light pink T-shirts with Kelly’s emblazoned on the front right across her ample breasts. Even her chef’s clogs—also light pink—were cute. But her body wasn’t cute. It was sexy as hell. She was all bumps and curves, in all the right places. She wasn’t a dainty little thing, standing only about an inch shorter than his five foot ten, and he loved that about her—gave him something to hold on to should he ever be blessed with the opportunity to get into her checkered chef’s pants.

Leo was jerked out of his lust-hazed stupor by the “heads up” shout from his teammates. A puck was sailing right for him, and he automatically knocked it down with his blocker before it could do any damage. He didn’t wear his goalie mask on the bench, and if his reflexes weren’t lightning-quick he would’ve taken a puck right to his grill.

Head in the game, Leo.

Settling back, he watched his team tie it up by the end of the second. During intermission, Tom took both he and Scott aside and said he wanted to put Leo back in. Scott shrugged.He’d always been the more easy-going of the two men. Their combined personalities meshed well, which translated into a successful goaltending partnership and a friendship that had spanned nearly eight years.

Leo stretched out and took the ice for the third. Their opponent seemed momentarily surprised by another goaltending change but recovered quickly and gave the Intimidators a challenge. In the end, Leo got the win by one goal. After accepting the congratulations of his teammates, he bopped Scott on the head as they left the ice together. “Kelly’s is on you tonight, bro,” Scott said.

Leo snorted. He’d been expecting no less. “Not a problem. I hope she made apple pie.”

“She always makes apple pie if there’s a home game.”

They rushed through their post-game interviews and hopped into the shower. Only a half hour after the buzzer they were climbing into Leo’s Range Rover on their way to Kelly’s. When they walked in, she turned from behind the counter to greet them. Leo caught sight of her luscious tits straining the material of her T-shirt and his dick twitched. He quickly ran his hand over it.

Down, boy.

“Hey guys. Good game, both of you.”

“Thanks,” they answered in unison, sliding onto stools.

“How about some apple pie?” Leo said, licking his lips already. An image of him nibbling pieces of it off of her flew into his head. Man, was he horny tonight…

Kelly put her hands on her hips. “You know better than that. I never let you have apple pie until after you eat a good meal.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Fine.” Perusing the specials written on a chalkboard underneath the TV, he ordered shepherd’s pie. Scott asked for a chicken souvlaki wrap, and they settled back to relax as Kelly went into the kitchen to make their food. “I fuckin’ love those T-shirts. I’d give up a mil of my salary just to be that T-shirt for a day.”

“Don’t I know it…” Since it was late, Kelly was waiting tables herself in addition to cooking, and both of them tracked her as she bustled around behind the counter. Coming back over, she poured them both ice waters and plopped silverware in front of them before going into the back once again. There were still a few customers, but everyone gave the Intimidators their privacy here—it was one of the reasons Leo and Scott loved to come here so much. The primary reason, of course, was Kelly herself.

“Okay, so let’s go over everything again – make sure we’re on the same page here,” Leo urged.

“All right. Can’t hurt. We need to present a united front if we’re gonna do this.”

“Exactly. So both of us want her.” They’d been attracted to Kelly since the moment they’d laid eyes on her, but had come to the realization a few months ago that their feelings ran deeper than simple lust.

Scott nodded; his eyes as determined and focused as Leo had ever seen them. “Yes, we both want her, and the only way that will work is if we share her. But we need to make it clear at some point, maybe not right up front, that we want her more than just sex.”

“And we think tonight is the night?”

“She’s definitely intrigued.” Scott paused and Leo could practically see the wheels turning in his friend’s head. “Even when we mentioned a threesome last week she didn’t run.”

“Yeah, and did you see the expression on her face? She wants it.”

“I think so, too. But don’t forget. We can’t push her too hard. And everything one of us does affects the other. We can’t let her tear us apart and if this thing starts to do that we need to reconsider.”

“Agreed,” Leo answered. He held up his fist. “Even now, even with Kelly, bros over hos, man.” The two men did a quick fist bump and Leo relaxed a little.

A few minutes later Kelly backed out of the kitchen, her arms laden with plates, and both men paused to admire her ass in her tight chef’s pants. She caught them staring and just shook her head, laughing.

Yes, they were done waiting for her to come around. It was time to put Operation Seduction into action.

CASSANDRA CARR BIO:

Cassandra Carr lives in Western New York with her husband, Inspiration, and her daughter, Too Cute for Words. When not writing she enjoys watching hockey and hanging out on Twitter. Her debut novel, Talk to Me, was released by Loose Id on March 22, 2011. Head Games, Buffalo Intimidators book 1, will release on November 2, 2011 from Siren Bookstrand, and Caught will release December 13, 2011 from Loose Id.

Website http://www.booksbycassandracarr.com

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/AuthorCassandraCarr

Twitter http://www.twitter.com/Cassandra_Carr

BUY LINKS:

Siren Bookstrand

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Her Master's Voice

2011-12-03T00:55:00.003-06:00

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Her Master's Voice

An acclaimed exploration of bondage and discipline
by
Jacqueline George

Sherry and Tim live in Singapore, although Tim works in the Indonesian oilfields. This excerpt from the novel describes some of the confusion causes when Tim brings a strange refugee woman home with him. Sherry is welcoming, but does not know what to make of her...

“Tim, how much do you know about Darti?” They were walking back to the house from the bus stop.

“Mmmh, not much. She’s a bit strange. She used to live by herself in a tiny wooden house out in the swamp. It’s unheard of for any Indonesian to live by themselves, and especially a woman. They always crowd their houses together. They can’t exist without neighbours. She made her living mixing herbs for medicine, and she tells fortunes. Apparently she’s quite good at it. My guys took me there when my stomach was bad. I don’t know what she gave me, but it stopped the problem dead in a day. Not bad, and one of the guys paid her for a fortune telling as well.”

“That explains it. I was watching my horoscope on the television and she got quite excited. She said it was all rubbish, quite wrong and I shouldn’t listen to it.”

“Pass. I don’t know anything about that, but I do know she’s a pretty clever lady that way. She was saying that when the terrorists came for her, she had packed all her things into her bag and was sitting up a tree with some proboscis monkeys. Her friends, she calls them. She watched the terrorists burn her house, and she watched when they got shot up by the police as well. She said that was a complete screw-up. The terrorists were just getting back to their boat, apparently, when the police appeared. Our Captain Rais was in charge and he fell or jumped out of the boat on the first shot. The policemen all dived into the bottom of their boat and no one was steering or watching where they were going.”

“And Darti was watching?”

“Yes. I wonder if that was why she went up a tree and hadn’t just run away into the swamp. Anyway, the police boat ran into the other one, everyone jumped up and started shooting. Darti says she’d given the terrorists bad luck, so most of them were killed but all the police survived. Even Rais, who was hiding in the bushes on the other side of the river.”

“Did you ask her how she knew the terrorists were coming?”

“She just smiled and said her friends had told her. I don’t know if she meant the monkeys or something else. Anyway, she was ready for them. Her bag was packed, right enough. Did she have much in it?”

“Nothing really. A few tee-shirts and sarongs, all old and faded. A cheap pair of sandals. Comb. A small mirror with a plastic frame. It was pathetic.” They had arrived at their house and Tim held the gate open.

“Exactly how friendly were you with her, Tim?” Sherry asked as she unlocked the door. “She had a pair of silver ear rings in a box from a Singapore jeweller. Did you give them to her?”

“Two small moons? Yes, they were from me. I used to make love to her now and then.”

Sherry stood with the door half open. She could not believe what she had just heard. “What…?”

“That’s right,” Tim sounded unrepentant and answered her as if everything was normal, “I used to visit her sometimes for a chat and a bit of fun. It was good. She’s quite clever that way.”

Sherry looked at him. There was nothing she could say. “You bastard!” she cried and ran up stairs.

Tim found her in the bedroom. She had taken his hold-all and was emptying her drawers into it. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m leaving! What do you think? I’d stay here with your girl-friend?” She found herself grabbed from behind, turned and thrown face down on the bed.

“Don’t be stupid. You’re staying.” He was holding her down with one hand pressing on the back of her neck. He was calm and very strong.

Sherry started to cry. “You don’t love me,” she sobbed. “You just want to use me.” She tried to struggle but it was impossible and she quickly gave up.

“Now that,” said Tim, “could make me very cross. Do you think you can threaten me by behaving like a hysterical woman?”

She felt his hand at her skirt. He was lifting it up over her back. She was sickened as she felt him pull the back of her panties down. “That’s right,” she said bitterly. “Go ahead and fuck me. That’s all you want, isn’t it?”

“Oh dear,” said Tim sadly, “you really are trying to make things worse, aren’t you?”

She felt him sit beside her, his weight depressing the mattress and bringing her closer to him. A sharp overwhelming pain shot through her and she shrieked in surprise. He had hit her! He had slapped her bottom hard, with the full force of his hand. He did it again and again. She was crying now, loudly and open mouthed, as she had not done since childhood. The pain in her bottom was shocking, and the humiliation made it worse.

Tim stopped and her cries subsided to sobs. “There,” he said, “half a dozen. Now, tell me you understand why that happened.”

She kept sobbing into the bedspread but Tim would not let her rest. “Tell me,” he demanded, “or you’ll have the rest of the dozen. Is that what you want?”

Frantically, she forced herself to think. What had she done? “Because I tried to run away?” she asked through her tears.

She heard as well as felt the slap. It hurt. Her bottom was already sore and the new pain seared through her. “No!” said Tim firmly. “I’ve already told you that you are free to go whenever you want. Try again!”

“Oh, please, no more. I’m trying…” She frantically scrambled through what had just happened. What had she said to him? What had he said? “Because—because I said you didn’t love me?”

“Exactly. Well done. Now tell me if you still think that.”

What could she say? “No.”

“More,” he demanded.

This was impossible, but she forced herself. “I think you love me.”

“Love me truly…”

“I think you love me truly.”

“And?”

“And—and—more than anyone else.”

“True but what else?”

What did he want from her? She wracked her brain. “And Darti can stay?”

“What’s Darti got to do with anything? Try again.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted sadly.

“What about you?”

“Me? I—I’m not going away.”

“Good, but not what I want. Try again. There’s still another five to make up the dozen.”

She knew the threat was not empty and she tried again to guess what he wanted. It came to her. “And I love you too.”

“That’s it. Honestly? You’re not just saying that because your bottom hurts?”

“No. Honestly. I do love you, Tim.”

He at last took his hand from her neck and bent to kiss her cheek. “Sweet,” he said. “Wait here a minute. Don’t move.”

She heard him in the bathroom. He quickly returned and she felt his fingers spread cold cream onto her burning bottom and gently rub it in. Relief flooded through her. He closed the jar and set it on the bed. What would he do now? she wondered.

“Your bottom’s all pink,” he said. “Very pretty. Let’s have a look at you.”

She made no resistance as he pulled her panties right down and off. Then he picked her up by the hips and set her on all fours on the bed. She knew he was looking at her. “Very, very beautiful,” he said at last. “You really have the nicest bottom I’ve seen in a long time.”

Despite her position, she was pleased. She wanted to please him more than all the others, more than the twins, or Ranji, and especially she wanted to please him more than Darti.

His hands gently stroked and kneaded her injured bottom, holding her cheeks and opening her. Then she felt him pressing against her and to her surprise he slipped in easily. She was wet and ready for him. He gripped her hips and thrust firmly in and out of her. An orgasm started to build deep inside her. She lowered her head to the bedspread and gave herself up to him. It felt delicious.

Afterwards he stripped the rest of her clothes off and laid her on her tummy. He lay contentedly beside her.

“I don’t mind if you make love to Darti,” she said. “Really I don’t.”

“Don’t be silly. This is your house and all the sex here belongs to you. And besides, the way you’ve been making love recently, who’d want any extra? I wouldn’t make love to Darti unless you pick her up and sit her on my cock.”

She wriggled closer to him. “Now there’s a thought,” she said. “I bet you’d like that.”

“Only if you liked it too. Now, stay here. I’m just going to get a cuff.”

“Oh no, Tim! Not now. Not here.”

“Of course here and now. You’ve been very naughty. You can’t expect to be that naughty and get away with only some pats and some delightful orgasms.”

“But Darti’s coming back…”

He came back with a cuff and short chain. She recognised it from the island. He quickly wrapped it around her ankle and fastened her to the corner of the bed. “There we are. Call out when you need to get up. I’m going for a shower.”

Link to Her Master's Voice

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©Jacqueline George. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

The Economics of a Sugar Daddy

2011-12-02T06:00:00.000-06:00

By Katrina Nicole

Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

While thetasty hard nougat candy is yummy, although a punishment to the teeth, it is notthe topic of today’s post. One of our staff writers did a lovely article onolder men and that got me to thinking about the Sugar Daddy. You know, theolder guy with buck loads of money who supports a young “perky” companion inreturn for adult fun. This is not a new tale, nor is it unrealistic. There areplenty of men and women who will gladly support you 100% to avoid thecomplications of a regular relationship. It goes from an ooey-gooey‘relationship’ to a business transaction. This makes sense, as the majority ofthe men and women who partake in the ‘Sugar’ are wealthy and life to them isall about business, not leaving time for much else.

The writerin me thinks it can be romantic, two lovers disappearing together to block theworld out and get lost in the throes of passion. Sounds like a romance novelright? We all know it is never as great as it seems. Brass tacks, more timesthan not it is exactly as I said, a business transaction. He needs a date and youdon’t mind the diamond necklace he bought you last week. The sex is hot becauseit needs to be. It is as simple as supply and demand. The Sugar Daddy is notgoing to come back if his ingénue becomes frigid, whiny, or boring. You supplythe heat, and he will fulfill all of your demands.

Being thecurious woman I am, I decided to do some investigating. How does one find aSugar Daddy? Do they find you? Is it a secret club? Do you have to hang outwith the jet setters to get in on the action? Turns out, just like everythingelse in this world, there is a website, actually several websites. My eyebrow rosein skepticism, okay this is a joke? So I checked one out and even signed up foran account. This is where it got interesting. Just like any other dating orsingles site, there is the free account which has limited access, and thenthere is the silver and gold for a monthly fee. Bonus* a free silver membershipfor three days as a trial…bingo!

So I gotone, created a name, and used my picture to see what kind of response I get. Iam pretty honest about what I would look for in a companion. I figure, my lackof flat stomach, rounded hips, cellulite, age, and strong, independent,demanding, personality, I would probably be passed over fairly quickly. That,or I would get some hits – creepy hits—maybe from guys looking for a SugarMomma (so not into that btw…ewww).

Quite thecontrary, I was surprised and yet not surprised. My inbox was flooded. That waswhen I discovered, and this may seem very cold, but for these men, it is simplya different way of connecting. People who have gained wealth are very busy. Itis not Dynasty and or the Hamptonswhere everyone sits around all day sipping champagne. Millionaires areconstantly on the run. Just ask one of their many personal assistants.

As I statedabove, these men are treating the engagement as a business transaction. It isnot emotionally driven at all. Well, perhaps subconsciously, but most of themen who approached me had schedules that needed to be agreed to. Like -- four times a month in the am preferred, or every Sunday through March after eight pm,or be on call once a week depending onwhen I can fit you in. It is likemaking an appointment at the dentist. They are all very upfront about it, andthey don’t want just anyone, they want someone who is going to take care ofthem and make them feel special. Thatstatement may seem odd, but if you think about it, it makes sense. They arescheduling out a time to relax with someone they enjoy spending time with, butwho will not expect a call the next morning, or key their car if they cancel atthe last minute. It is a business arrangement.

Is itprostitution? I am going to say no, and here is why. The Sugar Daddyrelationship is not a one time thing. It is ongoing, and can last years, evendecades. There is a relationship that develops. The two parties do becomedependent on the other. The other partof the equation is that the Daddy is not looking for just sex, he is lookingfor companionship. Most of the descriptions were of going hiking, watchingmovies, or talking about books over a glass of wine. The sexual intimacy ismany times secondary to the friendship.

Awww so sweetisn’t it? Well, it depends on how you look at it, like anything else. Twoconsenting adults finding a way to connect in a world where nothing remainsstatic no matter how much you want it to. Doesn’t seem too bad.

Everyoneneeds to connect. Everyone needs to feel loved and cherished. For these men itis all about control, it is about not having to second guess if they are sayingor doing the right thing. There are no games, just supply and demand. If itworks for those who choose to live it, why not?

Be safe andkeep an open mind.

©Katrina Nicole All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

The Dark Embrace: Chapter Seven

2011-11-27T04:22:00.000-06:00

The Dark Embrace

By Brindle Chase

Our story continues (below are the previous chapters if you have not read them)

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six

Content Advisory: the below contains graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.

Chapter Seven

Jennifer’s soft plump lips trembled, her tongue flicking against mine, but slowed with each passing second. I cradled her against me as she ebbed away. The pounding rhythm of her heart lulled to a faint, distant and single beat. She was almost gone.

I held up a hand and my brides all broke away. It was a hard thing for them, I understood better than any. Human blood is intoxicating by many elements. The eroticism it pumps through our bodies combined with the nourishment required for survival is addicting to say the least. They did not wish to stop, but obeyed my command without hesitation.

I Leaned forward carefully, letting Jennifer’s head slump back into the cradle of my hand at her nape. Bringing my wrist to my fangs, I tore it open and glared at my brides who stood watching. My blood is very old and therefore very potent. It is not as nourishing as a fresh human’s blood, but it’s infinitely more powerful in all other aspects. The intoxication it brings those who drink of it, is euphoric and erotic in ways I cannot explain. Just a taste brings glorious and continuous orgasmic seizures. All vampiric blood is this way, but mine is older. Age increases the potency and I am very old.

Laurelynn lunged at me, against her own will. Such is the intensity of my vitae. Her body responded against her loyalty. My glare checked her and she blanched, cowering back, ashamed of herself.

Nichole moved to her and slipped her arms around Laurelynn, holding her both in comfort and in restraint. I gave her a knowing nod. Always she knew my mind. I trusted Laurelynn, but I too knew the strength of elder blood. My maker’s scent alone would drive me to insane and undeniable need for her taste.

The beat of Jennifer’s waning heart came about thirty seconds apart and she was ready to receive the gift. The curse. I gazed on her body now cooling to the touch, limp and still straddled across my lap, my erection buried in her tight warmth. There is a moment between life and death that is indescribable. Peaceful, beautiful and surreal. It is then that a vampire may be made.

I lifted my wrist and suspended it over her open mouth. She was somewhere between this world and the next and thus, unaware of the gift I offered her. But she didn’t need do a thing. I would raise her myself.

Thick crimson rivulets trickled down my wrist, to the heel of my palm and dripped into her open gape. In her state of descent into death, she could not swallow, so it took time for the droplets to make their way into her system. Therein was the risk in turning a human into the undead. If my blood did not reach her heart before it beat its last thump, she would die, rather than rise as vampire.

The air of the study thickened with tension as all four of us waited for our new bride. Waited to see if this night would become a glorious celebration, or one of dreary remorse.

The thumping of her heart was so weak and it had been over a minute since her last. The wound from my fangs along my wrist had sealed but it did not matter. One drop was all it took. Either her heart had pushed my vitae full circle, or it had not.

Jennifer’s glowed like alabaster. Her tan skin, now a white porcelain pallor, was moist from her sweat. The aftermath of our lovemaking, but her chest lie still. I let another minute pass in silence, for I could not recall how long it took. Katja was my last bride taken and that had been over fifty years ago. My memory only brought forth the same anxiety I felt now, waiting, hoping.

Suddenly she snarled, her fingers clawing a vicious grip around my wrist and biting into my flesh. Relief flooded through me and I heard Nicole take a deep breath. We can live without air, but often emotions bring forth such actions unheeded. The exclamation echoed my thoughts. Jennifer lived.

Her fangs would grow in over the next hour, but the hunger she felt would be impossible for her to deny. She sucked my blood from me in deep and savage draws, each sending a blazing rush of ecstasy throughout my body.

I grew stiff inside her. The soft, slippery walls of her tightened around my throbbing erection and her eyes snapped open, staring at me with new sight. She would see me unaffected by my glamour.

This was a moment I dreaded. I’ve always been considered a handsome man I suppose, but knowing my brides gave themselves over to me while under the influence of my natural powers of allure, always gave me cause to wonder if they might change their minds once they adapted to their acute vampiric vision.

Her hips answered my question more profoundly than any words might, gyrating around and around, while lifting herself up and down, taking my cock deep inside. I bucked my hips with each powerful suction of her lips sealed around my wrist. The fever raging inside me was matched by hers. Her beautiful skin now a glossy pale version of her former suntanned self, heated as she matched my thrusts with tremendous undulations of her body. I hissed at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

My three other brides stood near, having moved closer, witnessing the first taking of Jennifer. Their hunger, their needs all assaulted my adept sensory perception. I knew they wait for me to invite them to enjoy their new bride. First taking was my right and mine alone, but I had always been generous to my lovers.

I nodded and Nicole slashed her wrist on a fang and held it before Jennifer. She released and wantonly grabbed Nicole’s offering. The light glinted off the bud of Jennifer’s baby fang. I don’t know why, but that very moment heralded a sense of completion and of closure. She was now one of us.

(( to be continued in Chapter Eight for the dramatic and erotic conclusion... next month! =oP ))

©2011 Brindle Chase. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.