Sunday Snog - Slap Shot

Welcome to Sunday Snog, here's a steamy snippet taken from just after Dana has given Rick 'Ramrod' Lewis (captain of the Vipers hockey team) his birthday present - an incredibly sexy pole dance.

It was time to move our game up a level. Stepping down from the stage, I stood before him as he death-gripped the arms of the chair.

“Are you enjoying your birthday present?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“Hell, yeah,” he said. “But it’s getting kind of painful.”

I glanced at his groin. There was a definite space issue going on in his jeans.

“So you won’t want any more of this then.” I smiled and threaded my arms behind my neck, lifted my long mane of hair above my head and rolled my hips like a belly dancer, spinning until I’d turned my back on him.

I bent over double, exposing the cleft of my ass and the thong settled deep within it. The pose was so naughty, so cheeky, that blood rushed to my cheeks as I stroked my hands down my shins and shifted my butt left to right, mischievously tempting him because he wasn’t allowed to touch me.

Suddenly big hands curled around my hips and yanked me backward.

“Hey,” I said, quickly slipping from his grasp. “The rules, remember?”

“Fuck the rules.” He got to his feet and tried to grab me again.

I shook my head and stepped out of reach. “Oh no, rules are there for a reason.” I tilted my chin. “Sit down.”

His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched. His chest heaved as he dragged in a breath. But after a moment of indecision, he settled into the plush chair once again. Every muscle in his body looked primed for action.

“That’s it,” I said soothingly, dropping to my knees in front of him. I rested my hands on his thighs and eased his legs apart, glanced at his groin again.

“I’m going to have zip marks imprinted on my dick forever,” he groaned.

“Sounds painful.”

“It’s fucking killing me.”

I smiled. “Sweet way to die though.”

“You reckon?” He shifted on the seat.

I shuffled in between his long, broad thighs and brushed my knuckles over his straining shaft.

He hissed in a breath.

“You want me to help out with your problem?”

“Feel free, any time,” he said in a strangled voice.

Reaching for his fly, I released it. Tugged at the zipper and drew it downward though it needed yanking a little, it was so stretched by the bulging erection beneath. This caused it to jerk, eliciting yet another groan from Rick as his head dropped back on the chair.

“Lift,” I instructed. He did as I asked and I dragged his jeans so they were at his thighs. I pulled in the scent of hot, aroused male and gazed at his thick cock tenting his navy boxers. There was a round drip of moisture near the waistband. I curled my palm around his shaft, feeling him through the soft material. His body tensed and I snatched in a breath as my pussy trembled. He was so damn big.

Lifting back the waistband, I revealed his darkened head and wide slit, pulled the elastic lower and released the shaft. Corded with bulging veins, it bobbed toward me from his tangle of jet-black pubic hair.

Thrilled to be this up close and personal with such a fabulous cock, I dipped the tip of my finger into his slit, spreading the glistening drip of pre-cum over the head.

“Ah, baby,” he whispered. “Even the smallest touch from you makes me want to come instantly.”

Good.

I curled my hands around his shaft and slid to the base. Gripping as near to the root as possible, I squeezed, tight, until I could feel his powerful pulse against my palm.

“Ah, fuck.” He groaned and gripped my shoulders. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

I looked up at him. “Hands back on the chair,” I ordered.

A muscle flexed in his jaw. I didn’t think he was going to obey but after a moment he death-gripped the chair-arms once more. “Be really fucking careful,” he warned.

Careful, no, careful is for wimps.

I dropped my head and stuck out my tongue, swiped up a new drop of pre-cum balanced in his slit and pressed it to my palate. Finally I fed my hunger for him. His flavor was divine, masculine and spicy. He was the most delicious man I’d ever tasted. There was sweetness to it, an honest sweetness that I didn’t think I would ever get enough of.

Consumed with a sudden impatience, I opened my mouth around the chunky width of his glans and sucked him in. Then, sliding down fast, much faster than I knew he’d expect, I took him until his head hit my throat.

“Ah, Jesus fucking Christ,” he hissed, his hips jerking and his hands threading into my hair. “Ah, Dana, good god, what are you doing to me?”

His tortured pleasure shot sparks of lust to my clit, my breasts and everywhere in between. I allowed his hands to stay in my hair, wanting him touching me, wanting to feel his hands on me. Reaching down, I cupped his balls and rolled their roundness within the loose sac of soft skin they were encased in.

His legs tensed around me and a deeply expelled breath breezed over my naked back. I bobbed up, let him almost slip from my mouth while my other hand rubbed at his shaft, then I dipped back down, deeper this time, the corners of my mouth stretching almost painfully.

“Ah, ah,” he panted as I drew in air through my nose and curved my tongue around his shaft.

I set up a quick tempo of drawing him in then almost releasing him. I didn’t know who this was more of a treat for, him or me. I was having a great time. Delicious darts of pleasure were shooting to my clit, the beginning of my own climb to climax.

Pausing in my swift movements, I held the base of his cock, laved around his glans with the tip of my tongue, scooped into his slit then tickled his sensitive frenulum.

“Wild thing, you’re torturing me,” he groaned, a hand curling around the nape of my neck.

I played for a few minutes more, holding the base of his cock firm and rolling and teasing my way around his head. Then as more pre-cum dribbled from him I opened up and took him right to the very back of my throat again.

“Ah, jeez,” he groaned, the hand on the nape of my neck gripping me.

I began to pump at the base in long, gliding movements, working him up to my mouth then pulling curled fingers down as I treated his head to licks with the flat of my tongue. I repeated this process over and over, absorbing the tiny trembles shivering through his body as I took him in deep then teased him shallow.

Suddenly the pressure on the back of my neck increased and his cock hardened to granite. “Be really fucking careful or you’re going to get it,” he warned in a choked voice.

I wanted it, I wanted it all so I upped the pace, intensified the grip of my fingers and my mouth.

He jerked his hips upward and his cock rammed into the back of my throat and lodged there. He groaned loud and abandoned. I beat down my gag reflex, dragged in thin slivers of air through my nose and sucked...hard. Really hard.

He cried out a string of curses that ended in, “Holy shit.” The grip on my neck increased as his cock pulsed in my mouth and a shot of rich semen flooded my tongue. His legs tensed around me so tight I feared for my ribs. I was trapped, impaled upon him. I was loving every single one of his reactions to me.

“Oh my god,” he groaned as more salty liquid spilled from his convulsing shaft. His whole body trembled around me and I swallowed fast, drank him up. Sucking mercilessly, I drained every last drop of pleasure from him. My pussy was contracting, throbbing around nothing. I could orgasm just from doing this to him, I was so near, I was so close.

Eventually his cock stilled and I let him slip from my mouth and glanced up. His head was tipped back, his mouth parted in a slack, sated way and his eyes were shut. Touching my lips to the coarse hair running to his navel, I began to slowly kiss my way up his bricked abs, shoving at his T-shirt as I went and delighting in the flavors and textures of his skin. When I reached his nipples his chest was still rising and falling rapidly. I swirled my tongue around the dark beads and they hardened and rolled.

“Lose this,” I said, my hands still in his T-shirt and my mouth now on his neck.

He opened his eyes and with one swift movement peeled it over his head and discarded it on the floor.

Finally coming face level, I rested my body against his and smiled at his glazed expression. Wiry chest hair tickled against my breasts and his softening cock lodged at my belly. I fed him a hot, open-mouthed kiss, exploring and delving deep into his mouth. He gave back as good as he got, his tongue eager, his rough-textured hands tracing the outlines of my body.

“It’s never, ever felt that intense,” he said, pulling back slightly. “That was awesome, Dana.”

I smiled and kissed his jawline right around to his ear. “Happy birthday,” I murmured.

He pushed slightly at my hips. “Get back up on the stage.”

I raised my eyebrows, surprised. I thought it would get carnal down here, on the chair.

“Stage,” he said again.

You can find out more about my on-going Hot Ice series on my website.

Thanks for visiting Sunday Snog, have a great day,

Lily x

Weekend Writing Warriors #WeWrWa #8Sunday

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors. This week 8 from The Glass Knot, my m/m/f novel set in The Cotswolds. Laura and Josh have just had a clandestine liason in the barn but Josh is racked with guilt that he has betrayed his husband Nick. Laura can't help but listen to their argument...

It was then I heard voices, deep voices that were loud with outbursts of emotion.


I paused and glanced through the open kitchen window.

Josh and Nick were standing by the Aga. Josh was still bare chested though his skin and hair looked damp, as though he’d shot through the shower to remove physical evidence of me; it made me think of Lady Macbeth, obsessively washing her hands over and over after the murder of the king.

Nick wore a neat red polo shirt and an expression of both fury and agony.


“Nick, please just listen,” Josh pleaded.


“Why the hell should I?”


“Because I love you, you know I do, with all my heart I just—”


“Clearly you don’t love me, not enough anyway, not if you just fucked her.” Nick flung his hand to the ceiling as though indicating that I was upstairs.

If you would like to read a multitude of facts about The Glass Knot then head to this post, and if you hit the Amazon links below you'll be able to read the many 5* reader reviews for my threesome's story.

Amazon US  Amazon UK

BACK TO WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS

Saturday Spankings #SatSpanks

Hello, and happy Saturday to all you Sat Spank followers! This week a snippet from Shared, my first novel with Ellora's Cave and published back in 2010. This is near the end of the book and Quinn, a sexy surgeon with a dark side, has just ordered a box of tricks to treat Ariane.

“Do as I say, Ariane, remember this is me in charge and every time you don’t do as I say I will spank you all the harder.”

I pushed to my elbows, the word spank had been used, again. My clit quivered, the exposed flesh on my behind tingled. Every time Quinn just uttered the word “spank” I got a thrill in a new, uncharted part of my being.

I heard a rustle in the box as one of Quinn’s hands swept over the orbs of my buttocks. “I love your ass,” he said in a tender voice. “So pale and creamy, so round and soft.”

And then it hit down - a whack from something hard and solid landed on my right butt cheek. I jerked forward and cried out, surprised by the sheer force.

Suddenly my whole buttock was ablaze, as though it had been pierced by a thousand needles, even the air in the room felt hot against it. Then his hand stroked over the seared skin and soothing noises escaped his lips. “So pretty,” he said. “You’re flushing pink already, I can’t wait to see you red, red and hot.”

If you read and enjoy Shared, then it has a sequel, Shared Too, which gets even kinkier including F/M/F/M sex, strap-on's and voyeuristic fun - hot stuff!

Breathe You In Reviews #reviews

Two more great reviews for Breathe You In. I'm so happy that this book is working for readers. It's a story born from loss but it's about falling in love in unusual circumstances and it's sexy and passionate and shows all the raw emotions of the two main characters as they become acquainted mind, body and soul.

Here is what reviewer Brynna Curry said...

Review:  Katie Lansdale is sifting through the pieces of her shattered life. Eighteen months earlier, a construction accident claimed the life of her beloved husband Matt. He was her whole world; every part of her life centered around being Matt's wife. Now, she is an emotional and physical wreck. She's lost weight. Her friends try to help by pushing her to go after life again, but she just can't let Matt go. Katie's grief is a tangible, palpable thing and it ripped my heart out from the beginning of this beautiful story of loss and finding love again.

After the accident, Katie chose to donate Matt's organs. Almost a little mad with grief, she becomes obsessed with the need to know who received Matt's heart and lungs. She needs to see the recipient healthy and thriving, to know that the heart that loved her so much still beats. This might have been a little odd for some readers, but showing the depth of Katie's grief made her initial actions acceptable in my eyes. People do odd things when they are grieving. She only wants a peek at the man from afar. It seems harmless, until she bumps into Ruben Strong in the museum where he works and falls in love.

Ruben was a real live wire. A Formula One mechanic, he lived his life in the fast lane of racing. Fast cars and faster women were his thing. And then, his heart starting fading away. After his heart transplant, he's slowed down, works at a museum and lives a quite careful life. He and Katie click immediately. He doesn't know that she is the donor's widow. This makes for a strong conflict between the pair. Ruben is a broken hero, broken but still whole. He needs to feel alive again and Katie does that for him. 

Any more and I'd be giving away the story. Breathe You In is both sexy and sweet, tragic and hopeful. The level of emotion Ms. Harlem evokes not only from the characters but the reader as well shows a rare gift. In a few short pages, she managed to make me cry, laugh, and yearn for this couple to connect. Breathe You In has become my favorite title by Ms. Harlem to date. As always, I can't wait to see what else she has in store for her readers.

And here is what Victoria Blisse said...

Lily Harlem really pulls at the heart strings with this unusual set up for a romance. The characters are strong and the emotions gut-wrenching in places. Of course there are scorching hot love scenes, filled with great passion but there is a lot of romance, plot and back story here too. I think it all comes together beautifully to make a cohesive erotic romance that isn’t just about the sex. It’s much, much more than that. This is an interesting set up for a love triangle that you’re just not going to expect and you will soon find yourself engaging with the fabulous characters Lily has created. You’ll never look at peacocks in the same way again!No peacocks were harmed in the writing of this book though, I’ve been assured of that!

As always, a million thanks to readers who take the time to put down their thoughts after enjoying one of my books. It makes it all feel worthwhile.

Lily x

Amazon US

Amazon UK

A French Affair by Lucy Felthouse

Sydney Tyler is renting a barn conversion in Northern France, planning to spend the fortnight getting some words down on her novel. Unfortunately, construction work in the other half of the building puts an end to her peace and quiet. Genuinely upset that the builders are going to disturb her, the property’s handsome English owner, Harry Bay, offers to make it up to her. He’s a little flirtatious, and after spotting his wedding ring, Sydney keeps him at arm’s length. Sexy as he is, she has no intention of getting involved with a married man. But when Sydney learns the truth about Harry, will their mutual attraction spur them on to work through their emotional baggage and make this more than just a French affair?

Available from: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/a-french-affair/

*****

Excerpt:

Sydney Tyler jumped so hard that her fingers slammed down onto the laptop’s keyboard and she typed a bunch of gobbledegook.

Kashfkjsdhlfknsdlfvn sdlkch awoeduioh ahdwklc

Gasping, she clutched at her chest as her heart thumped rapidly and painfully. “What the fucking hell was that?” she said to the empty room.

Pushing her chair back from the desk, she stepped over to the window. Peering out into the brilliant sunshine, she saw something on the lawn that she had absolutely not been expecting. Workmen.

She groaned. So much for her peaceful writer’s retreat. She’d planned to get a good chunk of her novel down in the fortnight she was away, and now it looked as though her peace was going to be monumentally shattered by banging, drilling and God knows what else.

Sighing, she gave the windowsill a pathetic thump in her frustration. She might have been pissed off, but she was no vandal. And besides, she didn’t want those noisy buggers in her part of the building fixing things—having them next door was bad enough.

Sydney really could not believe her shitty luck. When she’d booked the cottage in the French village of Monthiers over the phone a couple of months ago, she’d dealt with a fellow Brit called Harry Bay, who she’d suspected was the owner. On arrival, though, a timid French woman had met her and let her into the luxurious barn conversion before handing over the keys and explaining a little bit about the local area. Apparently, in the mornings, someone came along the village streets, selling fresh bread and pastries.

There wasn’t much else to tell, it seemed, as the village had nothing except a church—almost opposite her accommodation—and a tavern. It was also lacking—she’d quickly discovered—a mobile signal. Not even a single bar illuminated her screen. Her phone was now no more than a watch, alarm clock and calendar. If there was an emergency, she was screwed. But on a much lighter note, it was one less distraction. She could just get on with what she was here to do, blissfully undisturbed.

The arrival of workmen was incredibly irritating. Her temporary landlord hadn’t mentioned there’d be anyone working next door. If he had, she wouldn’t have booked the place—the quiet and idyllic location were the whole reason for choosing this property, this area. Even though there was no way he could have known she was there to work, common courtesy would dictate that he told her. Perhaps he was just interested in taking her money and didn’t give a damn about whether she had a satisfactory stay or not. There was nothing to be done about it now, unfortunately. She’d paid for the fortnight, and she was buggered if she was going to cut and run, pissing that money down the drain. She’d just have to find a way around the disturbance, and console herself that she could leave a snarky write up on a review site when she got home.

Finding out the builders’ working hours would be a good start—she could attempt to write around them then. Or perhaps she could make use of the headphones she’d stuffed into her case, without ever thinking they’d get used. Some loud rock music would drown out the din from next door and hopefully allow her to work. It was worth a try. She hoped they were only doing a small job that would only take a couple of days, but deep down she knew they weren’t. They were renovating the whole place so it was as beautiful as the half she was in.

She was just about to go in search of the aforementioned headphones when one of the men pottering around on the lush back garden stepped away from the others. Standing in a shaft of sunlight, he pulled his arms high above his head and stretched, dragging up his t-shirt to reveal a lean stomach with a fine line of dark hair leading enticingly into the waistband of his jeans.

Oh yum, she thought, perhaps having builders next door wouldn’t be so bad after all. Especially if they all looked like him. She continued to watch as the man dropped his arms to his sides and watched the others. His dark hair was overlong and stuck out at crazy angles, as though he’d been running his fingers through it. She couldn’t see the colour of his eyes from this distance, but she could make out enough detail of his features to see that he was handsome. Gorgeous, actually. Close up he could be much less attractive, but from her upstairs window, the view was pretty fine.

Just then, he glanced across at her side of the long barn, which was divided into two holiday cottages. He caught sight of her standing there, and his face dropped. He looked back at the builders, then returned his gaze to her again. Pointing at the group of noisy men, he slapped his forehead with his other hand. Finally, he pointed at his chest, then up at her. He was indicating he wanted to come in. She paused, then nodded. Common sense told her she shouldn’t be letting a strange man into her temporary home, but then, there were several large, bulky men milling around, so if they were a dodgy sort, she and the locked door would have no chance against them, especially with no means of calling for assistance. She could scream, of course, but she doubted anyone would come. The walls of the building were extremely thick—though sadly, no match for banging and drilling—the nearest house was a little way down the road, and by day, the village was all but deserted. There was only one business that she knew of—the tavern—so the other inhabitants would have to go elsewhere to work. To nearby Chateau-Thierry, perhaps, or even further afield.

She’d just have to hope that the handsome man—probably the head honcho of their group—was also a decent one. Presumably they were a reputable company, as they’d been hired by the British owners, who were usually more wary of cowboy builders, and given the horror stories and dedicated TV programmes back home, it was understandable.

Before she got even halfway down the stairs, a knock came at the door. Okay, so he was polite enough to knock, that was good. She moved a little faster, careful not to trip in her flip flops and go hurtling downwards. Once she was safely on the ground floor, she twisted the key in the door and opened it.

*****

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and 2013, and Best Women's Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Special Guest - Mary's Menage Whispers

Please join me in welcoming Mary from Mary's Menage Whispers. Mary is a reader, reviewer and blogger and was kind enough to answer a bunch of questions about her love of menage romance novels. Keep reading because not only is there lots of juicy gossip there is also a contest to win one of my menage a trois novels.

Thank you so much for welcoming me, Lily!

How did you first stumble across erotic ménage romance? I was tired to read soft romances. I wanted to read something more spicy. I could not find anything in French so I turned to English. I went to my local library and Laurel K. Hamilton was on the shelf. I started to read the first chapters... read the book in 2 days, was totally stunned to discover that an author detailed a complete sex scene but yet remained classy and mixed it with a strong plot. I went back for the whole series. My local library did not offer much choice in erotic genre, so I went on Amazon. I knew that it was impossible to find only one author writing like her and oh dear how I was right!

Was it love at first book or did this passion take a while to grow? It was definitely love at first read. After Laurel K. Hamilton and Anita's multiple men, I read her Merry Gentry's series, then J.R. Ward's series, although this series is not really erotic. You know what happens on Amazon? you click and you are directed to another place and another place and another place. All of a sudden, it was a huge list of erotic romances books and from MF I jumped to another dimension: ménages! Since I consider myself as a non taboo woman with a very open mind, I was intrigued. I read a couple of blurbs and I was totally fascinated that authors could write about multiple partners in a permanent relationships. Threesomes, I knew. On a romance level, it was totally new.

Can you remember the title of the first ménage book you ever read? I will never forget: I was surfing on Amazon and came across Maya Banks and her Colter's Woman. I loved the cover book (which changed since then), read it and that was it. I can even tell you my second which was The Devil's Pact by Samantha Cruise and... well, let's just say that I have a good memory! lol I feel in love head over heels with erotic ménage romance and never stopped reading them since then, in 2005. At that time, I did not have any ereader or android, I bought the books in prints.

When did you decide to become a reviewer as well as a reader and what was your motivation for this? I always loved to write but I was not born with the knowledge, passion and talent to be an author. I played here and there but that was not my calling. But I always loved to write and was always on my top class in Literature and Philosophy.  I love to learn and exchange opinions. In 2011, I came across a publisher's site that had a forum where authors could meet their readers. I met a couple, I read them and left some comments. They asked me my opinion and we exchanged ideas. I loved it. At the same time, I needed a challenge and decided to create my first blog. I had no idea if my blog would become popular, I had no wish to become an official reviewer, I just wanted to have fun and share my thoughts. It is still my motivation today.

How do you enjoy your relationship with authors? Along the way, I made friends with numerous ménage authors that encouraged me to review telling me that my reviews were different and they appreciated my views. Since I also decided to read ménage romances exclusively, I started to have a name on twitter and facebook (Goodreads came later) and I am still very surprised about it to be honest. I never thought that a French middle-aged woman would be read or even authors asking me to review their work. Now, I am also an official reviewer for a couple of publishers.  I am very humble to know that people read my ramblings and even subscribe or follow my blog. :)

How do you enjoy your relationship with other readers? Unfortunately, my circle is limited. I know I have many followers on twitter, facebook and goodreads. Unfortunately since I blogged I had issues with my comments. People could not log in and leave comments. I just recently discovered it and was totally upset about it. I just moved today my new blog to WORDPRESS (http://marymenage.wordpress.com) and hopefully I will be able to enjoy more the other readers and share opinions with them. To be able to discuss with another passionate reader about the same book we both read, is just fantastic. 

Have you ever had a go at penning your own erotic romance novel? Mmm.... yes. Don't laugh! I wrote two chapters so far that you can find on my blog! lol It is in French and a paranormal menage. I just wanted to know if I could write more than 5 paragraphs you know? Who knows? maybe I will kick my own bottom and finish it one day? Thing is you do not find erotic menage translated in French. I am not sure why but that is a fact. But I do not write it to publish it but more for a challenge.

Any pet peeves when reading erotic romance? Yeah, a couple. I guess the first one is a romance labeled ménage, yet ending MF. Either it is a MF with menage sex scenes or it is a menage HEA. When I get to the epilogue and find that the third was just a sex toy, it does not feel right. I do not like it. Another one is BDSM label when in fact the story is only soft domination. I do not call BDSM a little spanking or a man who is a little dominant in the bedroom. A lot of authors do use the label BDSM because it is very fashionable and attract more sales but in the end, they do not know what is fetishism or a real D/s relationship. I am not saying that you need to be a pro or living the lifestyle to write BDSM but it sure helps to know firsthand what you are writing. I do not like amateur or fake. I am very sensible with authenticity and this makes all the difference between a good story and an outstanding story.  Equality and credibility are essential for me. If I do not find them in the story, I am frustrated. In the end, I think those are my big pet peeves of all.

Do you ever worry you might run out of books in your favourite, and now exclusive, genre? OMG no! And I am so thankful about it! I am buying tons per months and read only a third of them! I have a huge collection I started since 2005, in print and then in ebooks. This genre is very popular. It is still kinky enough for readers to become addicted. 

How do you find technology ie Triberr, blog posting, navigating social media? Are you a natural or do you often sit and scratch your head in bemusement?  I guess I think I am a natural. For many years, I created groups and forums in various areas. Once I do not find what I want, I try to find a way to get it. I believe that technology is a wonderful thing. I am not only curious but I love challenges and I get bored easily so this pushes me to find new technologies or ideas. So far the best way to find them is to share a space with people looking for the same thing: twitter, facebook etc are places that have strong community and if you find the right place, you learn and evolve in the direction of your choice.  Triberr is definitely an important social media tool that helped me (and my author friends) to get exposure. I've known them since 2011. But like many medias that turned successful, they now want $$ in return of their time and efforts. Triberr did its job for free members, I believe it is time to find another. And I am not worried; another tool will show up soon. I totally believe that social medias are necessary evils to gain exposure. The key is to be wise and do not become their slave :)

What advice would you give to an author trying her hand for the first time at a ménage story?  Definitely read many ménage in different genres: contemporary, paranormal, BDSM, etc. List the authors that they feel the closest emotionally. From there, understand the difficulty to provide equality and credibility. At this point, I strongly suggest to write as close as their own personality as possible. If an author did not experience or does not believe what she is writing, the reader will know it and will disconnect immediately. Authenticity is important. Never try to copy a style or similar characters or plot and be original as much as possible. If an author does not know about a subject, avoid it. The real success in my opinion is to find an equal balance between characters, love, sex and plot. If each elements is equally shared, chances are this will be a great ménage story. My last advice is to find a trusted beta to read them and trust them enough to listen to their comments, maybe not follow them all but analyze them and try. The most important part is to remember that not each book is a Pulitzer and a bad review does not mean the author is bad and should give up. On contrary, if an author is smart and open, she will try to understand where she can be better and with time she will. Not everyone is a genius. People (and this includes authors, readers and reviewers) should remain humble and put their ego on the side. This will make them better person and better author/reviewer... but this is my own opinion.

You have a wonderful  new blog, congratulations. What are the aims of this blog and who are you trying to reach out to? Thank you! I do not have any plan but to have fun, review ménages and share my thoughts. Sometimes I play with the idea to extend my blog and welcome more reviewers but I was a mod in many places as well as a member and in the end I am happy to be on my own and argue with my ole me only! But my ultimate goal I think is to keep continuing to promote this genre I love so much and hoping that I will convert some readers to jump the fence and become addicted too!

How can readers and authors get in touch with you?

BLOG TWITTER

FACEBOOK      GOODREADS


Thank you so much Lily for this interview! I had so much fun with it!

Mary's Ménage Whispers

Thank you for visiting Mary, I've loved hearing your thoughts on menage, reviewing and how you found yourself so immersed in this super-sexy genre. I smiled when you mentioned Maya Banks' Colter's Woman, that was one of the first menage books I read, in print, and loved it, in fact it's still sitting on my shelf - one of those I haven't loaned out for fear of it not coming back.

Readers feel free to leave a comment telling Mary and I your thoughts on menage romance and what your favourite threesome story is. If you leave your email address I'll pick a name at random and award a pdf copy of SHARED (the first menage novel I wrote) to one winner at the end of the week.

Lily x

Smut by the Sea Volume 2, Edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse

Light hearted, sexy fun by the sea is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From the sun soaked beaches of Brazil to the altogether cooler coastal towns of England, Smut by the Sea Volume 2 has it all. Whatever your interpretation of naughty seaside fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Amusement arcades, beach houses, mermaids, honeymooners, shipwrecks, sex toys and more abound in this exciting collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Contains stories from Victoria Blisse, Tilly Hunter, Rachel Randall, Giselle Renarde, Tamsin Flowers, Lucy Felthouse, Kate Britton, Jillian Boyd, Bel Anderson, Cass Peterson, Delyth Angharad, T C Mill, Erzabet Bishop, Tenille Brown and Annabeth Leong.

Available from:

Amazon UK  Amazon US  ARe

Coming Soon to All Other Good eBook Retailers.

*****

Excerpt:

Brigit loved the seaside. She always had, probably because visiting it was a rarity. Living in the centre of England meant that even the nearest seaside town was over an hour and a half away—and the nice resorts even further.

Which was why her boyfriend, Allen, proposed a long weekend in Brighton. He knew how fond she was of the seaside. Unsurprisingly, she agreed delightedly.

“It’s a long way,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter. We’d never go anywhere if we lamented the length of the journey.”

As it happened, the travelling wasn’t too bad. Miraculously the M1 was clear all the way down to the M25—and even that notorious motorway wasn’t experiencing its usual havoc. A straight shot south on the M23, then the A23 took them towards Brighton, and they navigated the one-way systems and lack of road signs and—eventually—found their hotel.

“Wow,” Brigit said, stretching luxuriously after getting out of the car, “that didn’t take as long as I thought. Shall we check in, dump our bags and go and explore?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Allen replied with a grin.

They slammed their respective car doors, grabbed the bags from the boot and headed into the hotel. Fifteen minutes later, after using the toilet and freshening up, they were back outside.

“Nice choice of hotel, babe. I like it,” Brigit said.

“I’m glad. I researched it well,” Allen replied.

“The bed looks nice and comfy.”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll be able to give it a decent road test later.” He winked at her, and got a slap on the arm for his trouble.

“You’ve got a one-track mind, you have.”

“Well, what do you expect when I’ve got a girlfriend that looks like you?”

She giggled. “Charmer.”

“That’s me. Okay, now I’m back in good books,” Allen said, “what do you want to do? Now, I mean. Not at bedtime.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Brigit stuck her tongue out at him before replying. “I dunno. Just look around I guess. Get our bearings. See what there is to do around here.”

They walked hand-in-hand towards the seafront, then along it in the direction of the pier. They passed the burnt out shell of the West Pier, and Brigit wondered aloud whether it would ever be rebuilt or demolished. Or would the blackened skeleton be left there forevermore, a reminder of what once was.

Soon, they drew close to Brighton Pier. Brigit turned to Allen with a grin.

“What?” he said, then followed her almost manic gaze down the length of the pier, towards a building with fake turret-type things and some very real flags. He sighed. He couldn’t be sure from here, but he thought it was bound to be the amusement arcade. “Oh, you want to go in there, do you? I wonder why?” His voice was laden with sarcasm in his last sentence.

“You know damn well why. Come on!” Brigit tugged him along the last few metres of the pavement and onto the wooden slats of the pier. “Ooh, we can have fish and chips when we come out, if you want.”

*****

Editor Sites:

http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk

http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk 

Can't get enough of Smut by the Sea, check out Volume One - I have a sexy pirate story nestled within these saucy pages called Swashbuckling and features a delicious Cpt Jack Sparrow type who has collected some very naughty toys on his travels to the four corners of the world!

Amazon UK  Amazon US