Category Archives: Blog Tours

Jade A. Waters sipping a Jelly Bean while on vacation in Rhodes, Greece

Time for a Kinky Cocktail Story: The Jelly Bean

Posted on by

I am so excited, everyone! Kristina Lloyd’s blog tour for her new book, Undone, starts today. She’ll be stopping by later in the month to answer some questions for me, but in honor of her protagonist, Lara, owning a bar, Kristina wanted to kick off the whole tour with an all-day kinky cocktail party—that is, each of our sites hosts a special drink with kink! Cheers to that!

Now, I had a few ideas running through my head on cocktail options, and as you know, alcohol tends to make people fairly uninhibited. So I thought—in the spirit of a good cocktail party story—I’d be a little extra open today. The following semi-fictional story is inspired by a vacation I took in Greece a few years back, on which I discovered a delightful new drink called “The Jelly Bean”…as well as an incredibly handsome man.

I hope you enjoy the tale…

THE JELLY BEAN

by

Jade A. Waters

“‘The Jelly Bean’? Well naturally, that’s what I’m going to have,” I said, waving my menu about with a squeal.

“Naturally.” Sia rolled her eyes, because after knowing my candy obsession—in particular, jelly beans and licorice—for over a decade, she wasn’t at all surprised.

Our waiter came out from inside the deli, then, and I dropped my menu to the table with a gulp. He was the epitome of all the Greek features I’d been drooling over this entire vacation: gorgeous, tall, and dark, with stunning rich brown eyes and nearly black hair that waved down to the bottom of his ears. And that smile—oh fuck me, that smile—had me sitting back in my chair with a gasp.

“Hi there,” I said.

“Hello, lovely. So you’ll have The Jelly Bean, I take it?”

I flashed him my grin in response. His English was superb, but that accent had me squirming in my seat. Why yes, hot Rhodes waiter. I will have whatever sweet thing you’re offering.

Out loud I said, “Yes please!”

Behind his shoulder, Sia shook her head with another eye roll.

“I’ll have a beer.”

“No problem.” He went inside to fetch our drinks, and my jaw fell open.

“Oh hell-oh,” I said.

“Here we go…” Sia muttered.

See, I admit, vacation sex is my thing. It’s not intentional, but it happens. Foreigners rock my world, and there’s something magical about meeting a man in another country and living a brief romance with him—and don’t get me started on an accent talking dirty in my ear while I’m fucking. I guess for me it’s when in Rome, do a Roman…or something like that. There was the make-out with the Floridean on our Hawaii trip, the beach sex with the Dutchman in Aruba, the park romp with the Roman in Italy, the virginity-shattering of the Croatian in Rovinj, and the sensual island sex with the Texan in Puerto Rico. And of course, I’d already given that bar manager a blow job in the kitchen a few days ago, right before he bent me over one of the tables and then took me skinny dipping in the sea…

But the whole encounter had ended with him being a tremendous ass, so now I needed a better memory. I’d made it two weeks of our vacation through Athens, Ios, and Santorini without a hint of play, and we had only four more days for me to amend my vacation fling, dammit.

Hot Rhodes waiter came back with Sia’s beer and my blue and red glass of wonder. The Jelly Bean, you see, is a concoction of curaçao, grenadine, lemonade, and ouzo, and it tastes exactly like it sounds. I took a sip while they watched, the cool, candy-sweet taste washing down my throat as we sat in the unbelievably torrid, muggy air.

Our waiter grinned again.

“So where are you girls from?”

“San Francisco,” we chimed.

“Wow. San Francisco! We usually only get visitors from the east coast this far over. You two came a long way!”

“We did,” I said. “We wanted the full Greek tour.”

Sia gave me a look, but we made small talk with him for another twenty minutes because the place wasn’t busy midafternoon. Nikolaos—that was his name, and damn, even that fabulously Greek moniker stirred my blood—seemed tickled by his California customers. By the time I’d downed half my second Jelly Bean while devouring my Greek salad and a side of dolmas, we’d already started flirting hard. Sia, the perfect wing woman, laughed and played along, but it was on the way back from the ladies’ room that Nikolaos grabbed my hand and backed me against a wall.

“You’ve got a smile like some American actress…I can’t remember her name. But oh,” he said, looking me over, “you’re beautiful.”

Well, shit, handsome. Take me home now.

“Thank you,” I said. “You’re damn sexy yourself.”

“What are you girls doing later? I work late tonight, but you should come for dinner…”

Which is precisely what we did.

Greek dinners, for those who don’t know, happen mighty late. Sia and I had explored half the area by 10 that night and still had time to head back to our hotel for a nap and shower. It was so blazing hot—in fact, this was the year that Athens caught fire, 2007—that we lived in a layer of sweat from the second we left the shower until the moment we crawled our way back in. This meant we returned to the deli restaurant sweaty all over again, despite a good hour of freshening and dolling ourselves up. But, Nikolaos didn’t seem to mind. Not through dinner as we chowed on gyros and more drinks (Jelly Beans for me, of course), and talked to his friends who had joined the hang out. Not when Sia wandered off with some adorable Australian and a promise to meet me back at the hotel in a few hours.

And definitely not when Nikolaos talked me onto his moped and took me back to his apartment.

The place was a wreck, but I was all eyes-on-Nikolaos. He could have been a model, some Greek beauty blessing the pages of a magazine I would surely take home as a souvenir. However, I had better things in mind for this guy, and by the feel of his cock rising up between us, it was obvious he did too.

Nikolaos pulled me into his chest when the door shut behind us. He ran his fingers up my cheek, then stroked his hand through my hair. When he rolled his pelvis up against me, I let out a quiet purr only because I’d had three Jelly Beans and I wasn’t sure if I was coming off louder than I thought.

“You’re an aggressive little thing,” he said.

“I am.”

“And you almost look Greek.”

“But I’m not.”

“Are you sure you’re not a Greek-American actress? You look like an actress. And your Greek is fantastic.”

“I’m totally not. I just have a good tongue.”

That might have been the Jelly Beans talking, but Nikolaos took the bait. He leaned down and kissed me then.

And yeah. We were all tongues.

Tongues, fingers, hands, lips—we were naked and rolling around on the bed in no time. Nikolaos, it turned out, looked like a model from head to toe, and I, apparently, was his favorite shape. He spent several minutes running his hands up and down my body with heavy inhalations that made his nostrils flare, then he buried those fingers so deep in my cunt and his tongue so furiously against my clit that my Jelly Bean fueled groans had to have woken his neighbors.

“I’ve never fucked a Californian,” he growled.

“Perfect. I’ve never fucked a hot waiter from Rhodes.”

Our lips sealed back together when he frantically searched his nightstand for a condom. I barely noticed him putting it on, because moments later he plunged inside me, hard and filling, his hands gripping at my breasts and his cheeks so bright.

“Your smile…” he moaned. “It’s like fucking a celebrity…”

This somehow turned me on more. So as Nikolaos thrust in me, bit at my shoulder, nipped at my lips, and groaned in my ear—I writhed with wild calls that were twice as loud thanks to all those Jelly Beans. My body quaked with excitement as he pushed faster and deeper, and when he erupted with a grunt and I hadn’t yet come, he was right back down between my thighs lapping at me until I shuddered with cries that put everything before them to shame.

I remember thinking as we lay there—Nikolaos panting against my thigh, me trying to catch my breath, inhaling the smell of musty sex and dirty room and Greek humidity—that vacation sex was, even when terrible, awfully fun. I’m not one for notches on a bedpost, but maybe a map to mark my foreign conquests might make for a good chuckle.

Nikolaos slid up along my body, planting kisses over my face and tracing the circumference of my nipple with a fingertip.

“So you leave in four days?” he said.

“Yep. Four more days.”

“Hmmm.” He ran his fingers down my stomach, then slipped them between the sensitive, pink lips of my pussy. “Maybe you and your friend can come back to the deli tonight for dinner again…and have another Jelly Bean.”

“Oh. For a Jelly Bean, huh?”

Nikolaos gave me a quick kiss, and when he leaned back, he nodded with a grin.

“I just might,” I said.

I always have liked sweet things.

***

Want to read more awesome stories, posts, musings, and articles from the cocktail launch party? Click right here to see the full menu! And please be sure to swing on by to join the Facebook party all day today!

As for me…I think it’s time for another drink…

Jade Discovering The Jelly Bean While Visiting Rhodes

Jade discovering The Jelly Bean while on vacation in Rhodes, Greece…this may have been her second round. (Third?)

Hiccup.

XX,
Jade

The Big Book of Submission Blog Tour Logo

The Big Book of Submission Blog Tour is Here!

Posted on by

The Big Book of Submission: 69 Kinky Stories is out now from Cleis Press, and I have to say, I’m thrilled to be part of another of Rachel Kramer Bussel’s super sexy flash fiction collections. The stories in here are shorter—1,200 words or less—which means the anthology is packed full of stories from writers I’m proud to share pages with, each one providing a new take on submission.

My story in the anthology is called “Others,” and I previously posted an excerpt here—so today I want to focus on the story itself as well as share a somewhat hilarious behind-the-scenes tale. Let’s start with the story. “Others” is the first time I ventured from the lighthearted and playful stories I started with into a darker, heavier style. The bulk of this was that I wanted to experiment with a tone I used back when I wrote speculative fiction, but another part was approaching themes I gravitate to both as a writer and a reader—submission, exhibitionism, and m/f/m dynamics. The first, submission, has always intrigued me; I’m captivated by the trust involved in surrendering to someone else, as it’s an entirely different level of intimacy that I find intensely powerful. The second theme, exhibitionism, is dear to my heart—I’ve confessed on an alternate blog tour stop that my first orgasm with another person was under a third person’s watchful eye, and thus the concept has long been one I like to explore in my work. Finally, there’s the m/f/m dynamic…well, let’s say this fascination sparked the night I walked into my senior prom with not one, but two dates on my arm. Ah, memories…

The Big Book of Submission Tour LogoAll right, moving along…now that we got the deep dark part of this out of the way, I need to flash my lighter side (for those of you of the astrology ilk, I am a Gemini, through and through). See, I have a somewhat ridiculous and embarrassing behind-the-scenes story for the creation of “Others”—and since so often there’s seriousness in our back stories, I figured this goofy tidbit needed to be shared.

Shortly after I saw Rachel Kramer Bussel’s call for this anthology, I had a morning to write before a late afternoon chiropractic appointment. I was so inspired I planned to write all the way up until I had to leave—but I’d only gotten a few paragraphs in before the receptionist called and asked if I’d be able to come early due to some sort of emergency meeting.

I like being helpful, so of course I packed up and set out…but the story was burning a hole in my brain and I couldn’t let it sit for hours (my chiropractor is almost 45 minutes from me). I decided that this was the day to try dictation. Why not? If I could write erotica, I could certainly talk it to myself while driving, right?

Um, kind of.

So there I was, dictating away…but I have a theatre background, so I admit I was getting carried away with the lines. I was doing voices and everything, which got me a bit worked up over the whole thing. Still, I was doing okay. I focused on the road. I could manage this. I was cool. And then a few minutes later, right in the middle of a majorly heated part…

Some asshole swerved and almost hit me.

Naturally, I did what you do—I flipped the fuck out and screamed some obscenities he couldn’t hear through my closed windows. It took me a good minute to settle down (we’re talking two inches away going 70 on a freeway, guys), and then I attempted to continue my narration. I arrived at my chiropractor ten minutes later rather pink-cheeked—partially over the near-hit, but also over the story narration—and my doctor even said so.

“Good day today, Jade? You look…happy.”

“Oh, I am. Was just…uh…fleshing out a story, you know…”

Yeah. So when I left, I decided I’d had enough dictation for the day and opted to work the tale around in my head until I got home, where I sat down to listen to my recording and type it all up.

Now, narrating erotica is one thing. Listening to yourself dramatically narrating a hot story is an entirely different matter. Sure it was funny because I was over the top, on one hand, but on the other, I was getting a little hot under the collar (I’m an extremely aural person). I remember thinking, Jesus seriously? I just recorded this driving? This scene is getting really intense…wow, why, WHY did I act it out? Is it hot in here? Theatre people should not be allowed behind a mic with erotica like EVER. Ever!

And all of a sudden, I heard…

“Holy shit, asshole! Learn to drive! Oh my fucking god!”

Then, after a brief pause, the recording striving for an Erotica Oscar segued right back into more naughtiness.

I am sorry to say I deleted this recording (because why would I ever play that for anyone, ever?)…but I assure you I laughed pretty hard. I finished transcribing and then continued the story with a big fat amused smile on my face. And after that, I decided dictation was maybe not my thing—especially not while driving.

So there you have it! A little humor behind “Others,” my [not at all funny] story in The Big Book of Submission: 69 Kinky Tales.

Want to get your hands on this sexy book? You can pick it up right here.

Be sure to continue on the virtual tour for more back stories, reviews, excerpts, and more. The stops are listed right here.

Thanks for joining me on this stop! And, er…be safe on the road, folks…

XX,
Jade

 

Cover of Violet Blue's The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy

The Sexy Mad Libs Finale—And the Winner is…

Posted on by

All right everyone. It’s time. I crossed my fingers and toes for all the contestants who entered the Sexy Mad Libs contest hoping to win a copy of Violet Blue’s The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy, and now it’s time to reveal a winner.

Cover of The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy

Here was the challenge: since I love games, and I was inspired by a round of sexy Mad Libs in my past (eh-hm), I wrote a 300-word flash piece and accidentally left out some words—which the contestants needed to supply for me. These are the phrases and words that were missing from my story:

[method of restraint, preferably as a past tense verb]
[type of furniture]
[color]
[small and light inanimate noun]
[type of cording or long strand]
[pet name]
[adverb to describe fucking]
[body part—um, ideally not a bony one]
[type of sound made by a person during sex]
[adverb]
[a verb bodies do]
[verb to describe crash, ending in –ed]
[verb requiring contact with something else]
[another sound made by a person during sex]

Fortunately, I had a few people help me out, and as promised, I am going to post the story here with the Mad Libs phrases in place!

So, are you ready?

The winner of Violet Blue’s The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy is…

*Reaches into hat.* *Raises an eyebrow.* *Grins.*

WAIT!

(Yeah I see you over there. Calm yourself.)

Here’s the deal, folks. I had so much fun reading all of the entries, I’ve actually decided to post three versions just to give you a feel for how hilarious this was over on my end. Some parts of them made sense, some of them didn’t, and some of them…well, you’ll see. I fixed tenses where necessary, but otherwise, all entered phrases are intact.

The secret? One of these posted versions is the winner…so after all three versions (posted in no particular order), I’ll make the big announcement. Brace yourself! It’s good. Here we go:

Super Sexy Mad Libs Version #1, by Trix:

He had her cuffed, her body folded over the ottoman and her hands locked at her low back. The teal Lego minifigure dangled on a [strand of] silk above her face, and Beth stuck out her tongue, trying to reach—but David held her back enough that she’d have to work much, much harder for it.

“Ready, Ace?”

She nodded. This was the game tonight—to take him, forcefully deep and fast, while he kept her from the Lego minifigure. But if she reached it, he’d let her come.

David smacked her buttock. “Beth… You didn’t answer.”

“Fuck me,” she gasped.

His cock was quick to her warmth, slicking against the wet seam of her cunt as she moan[ed]. Beth stretched out her tongue, but the pressure of him yanking back on her wrists was too great. When he thrust inside her, his motion almost shoved her forward enough. Still, David managed to control her reach and Beth’s mind spun—it would take a good strong fucking, an intense pounding, something so enthusiastically deep and hard and sweet for her to reach that Lego minifigure—but she wanted it more than anything.

“Please,” she cried. “More!”

David’s breath grew heavier, his thrusts more frenzied. Her body grope[d] as his pace increased.

“David, fuck, yes!”

His force collided her hard against the ottoman. Beth’s eyes popped open just as her tongue [clung to] the tiny Lego minifigure.

“Yes! I win!” she gasped.

David slipped his fingers between the ottoman and her mound, swiping at her to make her come.

But the truth was Beth didn’t need it—the sweetest bliss coursed through her even before David touched her clit, and once she trembled around him, he collapsed over her body with a scream.

“New rules. We move the Lego minifigure farther next time,” he said.

#

Super Sexy Mad Libs Version #2, by Oleander:

He had her hog tied, her body folded over the broken down (and stained) futon and her hands locked at her low back. The red shot glass dangled on a [string of] nylon above her face, and Beth stuck out her tongue, trying to reach—but David held her back enough that she’d have to work much, much harder for it.

“Ready, Mr. Jingles?”

She nodded. This was the game tonight—to take him, riding the hobby horse deep and fast, while he kept her from the shot glass. But if she reached it, he’d let her come.

David smacked her penis. “Beth… You didn’t answer.”

“Fuck me,” she gasped.

His cock was quick to her warmth, slicking against the wet seam of her cunt as she [cried] “Uhhhhnnnnn!” Beth stretched out her tongue, but the pressure of him yanking back on her wrists was too great. When he thrust inside her, his motion almost shoved her forward enough. Still, David managed to control her reach and Beth’s mind spun—it would take a good strong fucking, an intense pounding, something so sloppily deep and hard and sweet for her to reach that shot glass—but she wanted it more than anything.

“Please,” she cried. “More!”

David’s breath grew heavier, his thrusts more frenzied. Her body hump[ed] as his pace increased.

“David, fuck, yes!”

His force excited her hard against the broken down (and stained) futon. Beth’s eyes popped open just as her tongue fondle[d] the tiny shot glass.

“Yes! I win!” she gasped.

David slipped his fingers between the broken down (and stained) futon and her mound, swiping at her to make her come.

But the truth was Beth didn’t need it—the sweetest bliss coursed through her even before David touched her clit, and once she trembled around him, he collapsed over her body with an “OhSweetJesus!”

“New rules. We move the shot glass farther next time,” he said.

#

Super Sexy Mad Libs Version #3, by F. Leonora:

He had her shackled, her body folded over the love seat and her hands locked at her low back. The vermillion spark dangled on a braided [cord] above her face, and Beth stuck out her tongue, trying to reach—but David held her back enough that she’d have to work much, much harder for it.

“Ready, miel?”

She nodded. This was the game tonight—to take him, roughly deep and fast, while he kept her from the spark. But if she reached it, he’d let her come.

David smacked her thigh. “Beth… You didn’t answer.”

“Fuck me,” she gasped.

His cock was quick to her warmth, slicking against the wet seam of her cunt as she grunt[ed]. Beth stretched out her tongue, but the pressure of him yanking back on her wrists was too great. When he thrust inside her, his motion almost shoved her forward enough. Still, David managed to control her reach and Beth’s mind spun—it would take a good strong fucking, an intense pounding, something so morbidly deep and hard and sweet for her to reach that spark—but she wanted it more than anything.

“Please,” she cried. “More!”

David’s breath grew heavier, his thrusts more frenzied. Her body waltz[ed] as his pace increased.

“David, fuck, yes!”

His force crescendoed her hard against the love seat. Beth’s eyes popped open just as her tongue bumped the tiny spark.

“Yes! I win!” she gasped.

David slipped his fingers between the love seat and her mound, swiping at her to make her come.

But the truth was Beth didn’t need it—the sweetest bliss coursed through her even before David touched her clit, and once she trembled around him, he collapsed over her body with a pant.

“New rules. We move the spark farther next time,” he said.

#

Okay, have you stopped giggling yet? I still can’t. This was just too fun!

But now it really is time for the big reveal…Drumroll please…

The winner of Violet Blue’s The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy is…

F. Leonora!

Congratulations, F. Leonora! You won! *Throws confetti everywhere.* (And oh my god, the spark and the tongue! Yowsa!) 🙂 I’ll be contacting you today to coordinate your prize!

Now, in case anyone’s curious, I figured I should reveal my original version of the story. Here it is:

The Game
by
Jade A. Waters

He had her cuffed, her body folded over the counter and her hands locked at her low back. The gold bell dangled on a chain above her face, and Beth stuck out her tongue, trying to reach—but David held her back enough that she’d have to work much, much harder for it.

“Ready, love?”

She nodded. This was the game tonight—to take him, deep and fast, while he kept her from the bell. But if she reached it, he’d let her come.

David smacked her ass. “Beth… You didn’t answer.”

“Fuck me,” she gasped.

His cock was quick to her warmth, slicking against the wet seam of her cunt as she whimpered. Beth stretched out her tongue, but the pressure of him yanking back on her wrists was too great. When he thrust inside her, his motion almost shoved her forward enough. Still, David managed to control her reach and Beth’s mind spun—it would take a good strong fucking, an intense pounding, something so unbearably deep and hard and sweet for her to reach that bell—but she wanted it more than anything.

“Please,” she cried. “More!”

David’s breath grew heavier, his thrusts more frenzied. Her body shook as his pace increased.

“David, fuck, yes!”

His force slammed her hard against the counter. Beth’s eyes popped open just as her tongue tapped the tiny bell.

“Yes! I win!” she gasped.

David slipped his fingers between the counter and her mound, swiping at her to make her come.

But the truth was Beth didn’t need it—the sweetest bliss coursed through her even before David touched her clit, and once she trembled around him, he collapsed over her body with a groan.

“New rules. We move the bell farther next time,” he said.

*

Honestly, I’m tickled by every version of this story, and I hope you all enjoyed the contest.

A giant thank you to everyone who played along, and congratulations again to F. Leonora! I’ll be in touch shortly! 🙂

XX,
Jade

Picture of panties around red shoes

Last Call for Entries, and Other Delights…

Posted on by

Holy smokes! Time is running out! Have you entered the Sexy Mad Libs game for your chance to win a copy of Violet Blue’s The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy? If not, please do! The deadline is today at 4 pm PST. You can play right here, so consider this your last call…and since you haven’t missed out yet, I hope you’ll play!

Speaking of not missing out…there have been a lot of fireworks going on over here this month. If you missed anything, here was the streak of sizzling excitement that set this place on fire!

  • First, the fabulous Rose Caraway narrated my story, “Soundscapes,” for the Kiss Me Quick’s Erotica Podcast. It was such an honor and a treat to hear her read my story! You can check out the back story here and listen to the podcast for free right here.
  • Next, the second episode of Pillow Talk Secrets revealed our fondness for Alison Tyler’s beautifully written Dom, Sandy, from Those Boys. We also talked a bit about how we write Doms in general. Want to know more? Check out the episode right here.
  • The next day, endlessly awesome A.M. Hartnett came by to reveal all sorts of dirty details about her three books on tour, Uncover Me and the first two books of The Carried Away series. Catch up on that interview right here to learn about the books as well as some fun facts about A.M. herself!
  • And finally, the amazing Alison Tyler madness continued on Sunday, when she gave me the honor of an exclusive interview with Sandy, the vibrant and incredibly sexy Dom in her new novelette, Those Boys, from Go Deeper Press! Sandy makes me a little giddy, but somehow, I made it through the interview. Please check it out to hear me swoon learn more about this divine character. You will not regret it!

Okay, I think that’s it! Don’t forget to enter the Sexy Mad Libs contest by 4 pm PST today. I’m crossing my fingers and toes for you if you’ve entered, and will announce the winner first thing tomorrow! XX, Jade

Red T-shirt with "Team Sandy" tagline

Team Sandy and the Those Boys Blog Tour!

Posted on by

Okay, everyone…I told you this month was packed full of fireworks, and today I’ve got some serious sizzle!

Why? Today is my lucky day—not only is it my stop on the Those Boys Blog Tour, but I have a very special guest. And no it’s not the brilliant author, the incredible Alison Tyler who wrote this delicious novelette. Nope, nope, nope. It’s someone else.

See, one of the main reasons Those Boys (and the novelette that preceded it, Those Girls) is so amazing is because of Alison Tyler’s authentic and rich portrayal of a true Dom. Did you catch us chattering about this on our Pillow Talk session on Tuesday? If not, here’s a recap—Tyler has made Sandy engaging, hot, and compassionate. She hasn’t made a two-dimensional stereotype of a Dom; instead she’s written someone who cares about his subs, and who is interested in exploring not just their bodies but their minds. Because of all of this, she’s done the number one most important thing that has made everyone stand up and take notice:

She’s made him real—so real in fact, that Sandy is who I have here today!

Yes, it’s true. And oh, am I excited to share this interview with you! So, please read on to hear Sandy’s thoughts on some very pressing questions…

The gorgeous Those Boys cover! Courtesy of Go Deeper Press

The gorgeous Those Boys cover! Courtesy of Go Deeper Press

 

The Exclusive Sandy Interview

Oh, Sandy, Sandy, Sandy…thank you so much for joining me, and for answering all my questions. Let us begin…with where you started. How long have you been a Dom, and how did you get into the lifestyle?

That’s like asking a person how he or she got to be tall. Or blue eyed. Or Irish. I am a Dom because I’m a Dom. That said… there is a story to the beginning. At least, to the time when I decided to embrace what I knew lived inside me rather than try to fight those intense desires. I surrendered. Perhaps most Doms won’t admit this, but that’s how it was for me. I gave in.

You’ll hear all about my beginning in Those Days [the prequel]. It started with a girl—the way these stories often do. She slid me an opener. I grabbed it in my fist.

So tell me—what about the lifestyle most appeals to you?

Honesty is everything. Participants in the BDSM lifestyle are honest about what they want, need, crave, require. I demand honesty from my partners. That’s the foundation on which I build.

And when you meet a new sub that you know you must connect with, what’s the first thing that goes through your mind?

“What can I do for you?” Perhaps, that has a submissive sound to the cadence. But that is how I think. How can I help you? And of course: How can I hurt you?

[Catching my breath.] Um, Sandy, do you prefer a switch or a pure sub? Or does it even matter?

Doesn’t matter. I want truth. I want to know what turns you on, what makes you hard or wet. I want to know. If you must exert your strength, your stamina, your power every so often, then so be it. I will bend. I will bow. I will be yours however you need me.

Let’s say you could freeze a moment of your connection with your subs, Vanessa and Rem, in a photograph. What would it be? And would it be in black and white or color, and why?

A Polaroid. You knew I was going to say that, didn’t you? But not just one Polaroid. A series. A strip-tease. Each click of the camera capturing a step forward. A kiss. A caress. A peeling back. Until we are undone and undressed. Naked in every sense of the word.

Wow. Your words are one of your greatest, most entrancing traits. Of all the things you’ve said to Vanessa, Jake, and Rem (or any other sub over the years), what have you said that has elicited the strongest response (in your opinion)?

Trust me.

[Gulping.] So…what’s your favorite: paddle, belt, flogger, quirt, crop, or…?

The situation decides the weapon. Sometimes the feel of a paddle in my hand sings to me like nothing else. Other times, I know I can’t go wrong with a flogger. But if I had to choose only one, I’d choose my belt. Utilitarian. Deceptively simple. With me at almost all times. For those hard-to-reach situations.

All right. You can take Rem and Vanessa anywhere for as long as you want. Where do you go, and why?

Dive bar on the corner with the neon sign in the window. Eleven o’clock tonight. Jukebox. Leather booth. Top-shelf tequila. Until last call.

I’m a simple man.

You rarely blush. What would make you blush, if anything?

I’ll admit to making mistakes. Rarely happens, but I won’t hide. The flush you’ll occasionally see along my jaw is my anger at myself, not embarrassment for fucking up. Disappointment in myself. I’m far more lenient on others than I am when I turn my attention inward. Isn’t it always that way?

True. Now, Vanessa and Rem would do anything to please you because you care so much for them. If you were to come home to the sweetest surprise from them—they anticipated exactly what you’d want without you needing to articulate it—what would it be?

A new playmate. Wrapped up in a silver ribbon.

Oh Sandy…I’m sorry to say it’s time for our final question. What is your deepest desire—in ten words or less?

I want to live inside your head. Invite me in.

***

Oh my goodness…I don’t know about all of you, but that last answer—wow. Sandy is, in my opinion, one of the greatest characters I’ve ever read. So in case it needs to be stated, this is 100% me:

Team Sandy t-shirt

Need a little more convincing? Here’s the official blurb:

What are the chances? Bisexual dom Sandy meets Rem in his local horse-and-tack store while shopping for a quirt. He’s instantly taken by Rem’s shocking good looks and the way he struts around in an old Western-style shirt. “A preening peacock” Sandy calls him, before announcing, in the hottest of ways, what narcissists like Rem deserve.

Sandy brings Rem home to Vanessa (Those Girls) where all three enjoy intensely erotic BDSM sex, with Sandy pushing everyone’s boundaries in ways they want and he knows they need.

But Rem proves to be a mystery that even Sandy can’t quite crack. What does the boy really desire? And if it isn’t Sandy and Vanessa, what will the consequences be?

This novelette is divine, everyone. Be sure to pick up your copy as soon as you can. It officially comes out tomorrow, but you can get it from Go Deeper Press right now!

Do not miss out!

XX,
Jade

About Alison Tyler:

Called a “Trollop with a Laptop” by East Bay Express, Alison Tyler is naughty and she knows it. Her sultry short stories have appeared in more than 100 anthologies including Coupling edited by Sommer Marsden and Sex for America edited by Stephen Elliott. She is the author of more than 25 erotic novels, most recently Dark Secret Love and The Delicious Torment, and Wrapped Around Your Finger (soon to be released). She is also the editor of more than 75 explicit anthologies, including Alison’s Wonderland, Never Say Never, and 69. Visit www.alisontyler.com 24/7 as she’s a total insomniac.

 

 

Cover of A.M. Hartnett's Uncover Me

A.M. Hartnett is Here!

Posted on by

Exciting news, everyone! Today I have a special guest—the wonderful A.M. Hartnett!

A.M. Hartnett and I have been chattering for a few months now, and she’s someone I look up to in the erotica world—she’s cool, she’s clever, and she’s a damn good writer. She’s also sassy and funny as all hell, which basically wins me right over. 🙂

A.M. is on a wild tour right now for not one, but THREE books, and I’m delighted she’s here to talk with us about all of them. The first book is a standalone erotic romance called Uncover Me, for which she’s shared a smokin’ hot blurb, and the other books form the first two-thirds of her Carried Away series. Lucky for us, I managed to wrangle her into an interview to ask a few questions about the books, her process, and some other nifty facts about her.

Thanks for coming by today, A.M.!

So, let’s start with Uncover Me, which was just released last month. I love that the book has such a fun exhibitionist premise. Carrie Thorn is an exhibitionist with a capital E—she likes to take naughty photos and post them on a blog. What inspired her character?

One word: Tumblr. As I mentioned at my post over at Mischief, I had been alerted to the existence of Tumblr’s sex blog community by Rachel Kramer Bussel and became an instant fan. My favourites are the ones of real people showing off, and that’s where Carrie came from.

Tell us more about Carrie’s blog—is she no holds barred or constantly getting wilder with her pics? How did you come up with such an idea? (It’s fabulous.)

When we first meet Carrie, it’s a solo project. She likes frilly things and showing off her body, occasionally bringing toys into the mix. As the first line says, she doesn’t consider it porn. I wouldn’t say she’d consider it art or photography, either. That’s pretty reflective about my feeling about the sex blogs I follow. Yes, they’re visually stimulating, but oftentimes they’re more erotic than in-your-face and she’s doing it because it turns her on to do it. She likes the idea of her readers getting horny while they look at her pictures.

What is Carrie’s favorite photo posted on her blog?

I think if you were to ask Carrie, she would never be able to come up with one single picture, though after she meets Brendan she’d probably give the gold star to the picture that brought her to his blog

‘You weren’t completely naked. Your bra was pushed down to your ribs and your panties were twisted around your knees. You had your hand between your legs. It was like you were waiting for someone. I got so hard thinking about what came next I unzipped right there in my office and jerked off.’ He shook himself and looked at her. His smile turned mischievous. ‘You’re blushing.’

‘Of course.’

Hot. Brendan sounds like the perfect partner for Carrie’s kink. Can you tell us a little about the moment they meet (without giving it all away, of course)?

They have two meetings: the online meeting and then the face to face. Carrie indulges in her kink at work one day and accidentally gets a shot of a local landmark in the background. Oops. Brendan recognizes it immediately and sends her a hello, along with a naughty offering of his own, and manages to convince her to meet him somewhere public. It’s pretty unnerving for Carrie – she knows right from the start that Brendan is interested in being more than friends, and already knows her most intimate secret. As he points out after some back and forth, they’ve met for sex.

Now I’m curious…if Carrie met Brendan while speed dating, would she find him as intriguing as she does when he finds out her secret?

Probably not. Brendan is good looking, and she might take a second look, but as she puts it :

Close up, she could see the lines around his mouth and a few flecks of grey in his hair. He was about her age, maybe a couple of years older, and definitely someone she would have given a second glance if they had passed one another on the street.

She’s never look at him and think, ‘This is the man who will breathe life back into me,” because before Brendan, she refuses to think that way about any man.

Thanks for sharing about Uncover Me! But, I also want to know more about the Carried Away series. In the first book, the protagonist, Grace, is all about misbehaving around the office—until she finds out that her boss, Taureau, has been watching her on hidden cameras. He asks her to give him a show and she says yes—what about him makes her willing to do it?

She definitely likes to hear him talk lol. As soon as he makes his presence known, he uses the only thing in his arsenal, his voice, to twist her into knots. Aside from the sexy voice, he also manages to convey a potent amount of confidence for someone who has been scarred physically and emotionally, and at the same time Grace recognizes his loneliness: he’s reaching out not just because he liked to watch her but because he likes her and wants to get to know her at a safe distance.

‘You’re not married.’ It was a statement, not a question.

She shrugged. ‘I prefer my independence.’

‘As do I. Some people just don’t get it, do they? Like the mother you were talking to earlier. She doesn’t understand why someone would choose to be alone.’

‘I don’t –’ She caught herself before she could tell him she didn’t choose to be alone. She simply was alone, because that was the life she had made. She had very few regrets, and when she did they were fleeting.

‘I have people in my life like that,’ he said, and laughed. It was a cynical sound he seemed to cover up after a moment. ‘Though I suppose it would be absurd to compare our situations, wouldn’t it? There’s a big difference between thriving on constant activity like you do and . . . well, me. Still, there’s something to be said for solitude, isn’t there, Miss Neely?’

I’m a sucker for a good voice, so this is right up my alley. 🙂 I’m also tickled that Taureau sends a stand-in man while he’s away (Grace is one lucky girl). Can you tell us more about Simon? Has he always been such a great…um…assist for his boss?

Oh, Simon. Le sigh. He’s the guy who made the series a series. I couldn’t just let him get away. *I* wanted to know more. There’s so much going on with Simon that the reader won’t get more than a hint at until the final book when I tell his story. He’s Taureau’s oldest friend in addition to being his stand-in (in and out of Grace’s bed) and seems content to do so, but there’s so much more to him than I show in the first two books.

Love that! Also, I noticed this series has alternate POVs in each book—but at the same location. Did you plan this from the start? I remember seeing on Facebook that you weren’t originally planning a series—what made you choose this route rather than a progression?

The Deep End, the first book, was supposed to be a one-shot deal. Grace and Taureau’s story began and ended in that book, but as I was writing Quinn and Molly’s story next, guess who crashed the party? Simon Reeve. Rather than chase him off, I just let him in on the fun (and what fun it is …)

So, in short, I chased Simon through three books. I grabbed him and shook him and asked “WHO ARE YOOOOOUUU AND WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH MEEEEE?” Apparently the answer is that he wanted his happy ending, too.

Apparently! So…what was the most exciting part of writing this series?

Definitely revisiting old characters. The thrill started when Simon appeared in Holding My Breath, and continued as I said hello to Taureau and Grace again in Breaking Through. The latter was quite special, as I was able to delve a little deeper into Taureau and Simon’s bromance and look at how they supported one another beyond what Grace observes in The Deep End. As well, readers get a glimpse of where Quinn and Molly ended up after their HEA.

Of all of these characters, who was your favorite to write, and why?

While Simon is my special little pet, Jacques was definitely my favourite to write. For one, I had no idea who he was when I started The Deep End, I only knew that I was writing a book and also the most alpha male I’d ever conceived. I discovered how strong he was and how sensitive he could be. It was so interesting to watch him through Grace’s eyes and watch him struggle and conquer over and over again, and coming back to him in Breaking Through to see how he’s doing was a treat for me.

I heard you had awesome photos for real places in The Deep End. When can we see them?

The Deep End takes place in the fictional Convent House, not far from Shediac, New Brunswick. Technically 😉 I picked this location primarily because I love driving through it, but as for the actual Convent House, it’s a few hours away in Avondale, Nova Scotia, and it’s really The Mission House. Check out this link to see the inspiration the hideaway Jacques brings to when their digital affair ends and things get physical between them.

That is gorgeous! Wow! Okay…now I think it’s time for everyone to learn a little more about you! Let’s talk process—do you tend to work on one story at a time, or do you have your hands dirtied (heh) with many projects all at once?

If I’m not contracted on anything, I’m usually plotting about five potential projects, but once I settle on something and it’s on, it’s on. I don’t write linear, but I wouldn’t say I’m all over the place, either. I kind of look upon my writing process as a jigsaw puzzle: I work in chunks until I get a tidy square to work in, and then I just put the picture together wherever I see a connection.

And the ever-important writer drink question: coffee or something stronger while you work?

No coffee while writing. The only time I do coffee these days is first thing in the morning (and you will pry my morning coffee from my cold, dead hands). While I’m writing, it’s going to be good old black tea.

You just won a ticket to fly wherever you want to write for a month, all expenses paid! Where do you go?

Nope, nope, nope, nope. No writing on vacation. This is one of my rules: if I go away, all work ceases. Why waste a perfectly good vacation on work? So give me your money and send me to the south of France, and damn well expect me to come back with a tan and a twenty year-old toy boy named Pascal.

Please be sure to tell me all about that. In the meantime, what are you reading right now, and what do you prefer to read?

I’m on a non-fiction kick right now, which is the first time this has happened in a long time. I’m reading all about the public enemies of the depression era South & Midwest – Bonnie and Clyde, Dillinger, Pretty Boy Floyd, etc. I also just finished the absolutely wonderful Alias Hook by Lisa Jensen, about Captain Hook in Neverland. Highly recommended!

I never know what’s going to catch my eye, or what’s going to surprise me, so I’ll pretty much give anything a shot.

Fair enough. Now, final question—because I’m a fiend—what’s your favorite candy?

Reese’s Peanut Butter cups (do people actually pick something other than Reese when asked this question?). Actually, put peanut butter and chocolate together in any scenario and I’m happy. Ice cream? Bring it. Cheesecake? Oh yeah. Slathered all over Nick Youngquest’s naked body? Come to meeeee.

*Snort.* Okay, do you all see why I love A.M. Hartnett? I’m just so happy to have had her here. And now, she’s passed along a sexy excerpt and blurb for Uncover Me!

Cover of Uncover Me by A.M. Hartnett

Excerpt

Fuckable, he’d said.

She felt fuckable. The insides of her thighs were slicker than ever and her clit throbbed with need. She wanted to bring the house down with him pounding her.

Once inside she led the way, following the orange glow to her bedroom where she had left the light on. He nudged her over the threshold and, as she shrugged out of her coat, she heard the click of the bedroom door locking.

Such a strange thing to do, she thought, and then she realised that the small sound represented her willing captivity. The closed door barred them from the outside world. In this room, in this tidy little box with its white walls and splashes of colour, with the imposing bed beckoning her, she was his fantasy and he was hers.

She turned and found Brendan leaning against the door. His dark eyes glittered beneath his heavy lids. ‘Take it all off. Slowly.’

‘No cameras?’

‘Maybe later. Right now I don’t particularly feel like sharing.’ He reached up and loosened his tie. ‘Strip.’

Carrie turned her back on him. The descent of her zipper from the middle of her back to her ass seemed to take for ever. Goose flesh rose as she wriggled out of it. Behind her came the sinful whisper of his clothes being peeled away from his body, then the crinkle of a condom wrapper.

The urge to turn around and look at him made her ache as she unhooked her bra. She tossed it aside and placed her hands on her hips, waiting.

He came up behind her and from the corner of her eye she saw the flash of red. He had her paddle in his hand. She suppressed a shudder.

‘I want you on the bench at the end of the bed. On your knees, grasping the footboard. Show me your ass.’

‘Brendan?’

He scraped his teeth against the curve of her shoulder. ‘Carrie.’

‘Remember what I said about pain.’

‘I remember.’ His fingertips dug in. ‘But you want a little, don’t you? You bought this. I won’t hurt you. Trust me. Go on.’

Trust me.

In her head, she heard his voice chant this over and over as she did what she had been told.

*

Blurb

There’s a heart inside every fantasy.

The photos are becoming a compulsion for Carrie. As soon as she wakes up, she feels the need to engage with the readers of her erotic website, Dirty Pictures. No matter how hard she tries to focus on her real life the need is always there. The high is knowing that men desire her.

One day a comment on her erotic website makes Carrie go cold: one of her readers, Brendan, has recognised a landmark in the window of one of her pictures. Brendan knows where to find her and has sent a tantalising private message. His invitation to play was so tempting in no time at all, in a variety of settings, their sensual adventures become wild. Her sexual and emotional reawakening reaches peaks she never imagined possible.

But Carrie finds it difficult to treat their relationship as casual. Terrified of heartbreak, she breaks off her affair with Brendan. Her previous relationship left her in tatters and she’s too scared to take such a chance again. Brendan endured a broken marriage so she’s not alone in her confusion and reticence. But can Carrie ever hope to be more than his fantasy girl?

Buy Links

Uncover Me

The Deep End (Book 1 of the Carried Away Series)

Holding My Breath ( Book 2 of the Carried Away Series)

Want to know more about AM Hartnett?

You can find her at : www.amhartnett.com

Thanks so much for joining us and sharing, Annemarie! I encourage everyone to check out all three of these books!

XX,
Jade

Cover of Violet Blue's The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy

Hot Mad Libs and The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy Blog Tour!

Posted on by

Today, I am delighted to host the next stop on The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy blog tour! And, not only do I get to tell you about this incredibly hot book from Violet Blue (and it’s hot, folks), but I’m quite thrilled to announce that this stop has a game and giveaway involved! That’s right—if you win, you will get your very own copy of this delicious book! Wow!

Cover of The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy

So, first, let me tell you a bit about The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy: How to Have Incredible Sex with Role Play, Sex Games, Erotic Massage, BDSM Play and Much, Much More. This book is filled with Violet Blue’s comprehensive expertise on all things fantasy, from role play to threesomes, to striptease, clubs, and public encounters. On top of all sorts of fantastic advice and handy resources, the book is packed with erotic stories to help you explore your fantasies—by none other than Alison Tyler. Talk about a sexy deal!

Before we launch the game, here’s the official blurb:

Join the legions of couples and singles who are making their hottest sexual fantasies come true. Whether you’re looking for an endless supply of fantasy ideas or expert advice for a playful, imaginative sex life, this information-packed book will tell you exactly what you need to know. Forbes web-celeb Violet Blue has compiled comprehensive lists of the most popular fantasies and fetishes, complete with suggestions for props, toys, and costumes (and where to buy them). Blue takes a nuanced approach to helping you decide just how far to take your fantasies. Whatever your desires, The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy: How to Have Incredible Sex with Role Play, Sex Games, Erotic Massage, BDSM Play and Much, Much More will help you create the scenarios of your wildest dreams.

Discover how to:

    • Uncover your lover’s secret fantasies
    • Role-play without feeling silly
    • Navigate your first threesome—where DOES that sixth arm go?
    • Have sex in public
    • Create thrilling S/M scenarios
    • Strip, lap dance, and talk dirty

The book is available at:        Cleis Press                Amazon

Sounds like a fabulous book, doesn’t it? And though there were many more fantastic fantasies and ideas contained within than are listed above, there was one section that really caught my eye—that is, an entire chapter on sex games. See, I’m a bit of a playful person (shocker, I know), and a few years back I had a lover with whom I played many a sexual game. A particular favorite involved a bottle of wine, a few naughty promises, and a round of sexy mad libs.

Here’s what happened: I wrote him a story about what I thought would be fun for us to do on our next encounter…but I left a whole lot of blanks in it. I sent this story to him with instructions—he needed to find words to fill in the blanks, and once he did, I would show up with the wine so we could finish the story.

Suffice it to say, he had some pretty good word choices to help out. 😉

Now, years later, I’m turning this game on its head—and giving you an opportunity to win with it. I’m hoping you’ll play, because if you win, you will get your hot little hands on your very own copy of The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy. Score!

Here’s how to play: I’ve written a sexy flash story of about 300 words…but oopsy, I seem to have omitted several of them! I’ll need you to fill in all the blanks below, as specified (please get as dirty as you’d like, but be sure to use a noun for a noun, and a color for a color, and a piece of furniture for a piece of furniture, etc.). Once you’ve picked your words/phrases, all you need to do to enter is comment below with the following:

  • Name
  • Email address
  • Your choices for the blanks.

Your deadline is 4 p.m. PST on Wednesday, July 23rd. That’s ten whole days for you to get crafty with your word choices!

After the deadline, I’ll print out all the entries and draw a winner—and on Thursday, July 24th, the winning set of responses will be posted in the story right here on this blog. I can’t wait to see what you come up with—and how this story turns out! How crazy and kinky can we get together, people? (And will it make any sense?!) 😉

All right, ready to get your game on? Here are the blanks you need to fill:

[method of restraint, preferably as a past tense verb]
[type of furniture]
[color]
[small and light inanimate noun]
[type of cording or long strand]
[pet name]
[adverb to describe fucking]
[body part—um, ideally not a bony one]
[type of sound made by a person during sex]
[adverb]
[a verb bodies do]
[verb to describe crash, ending in –ed]
[verb requiring contact with something else]
[another sound made by a person during sex]

Oh, I can’t wait. Please be sure to post your entry in the comments below with your name and email addy so I can contact you if you win. And don’t forget, you have until 4 p.m. (PST) on Wednesday the 23rd!

This will be so fun! 🙂

XX,
Jade

Violet Blue is the best-selling author of numerous sex-instruction books, including The Ultimate Guide to Cunnilingus and The Ultimate Guide to Fellatio. She also writes about erotica, pornography, and sexual pleasure and health for magazines such as O: The Oprah Magazine, Newsweek, Cosmopolitan, Esquire, Glamour, Maxim, Marie Claire, Men’s Health, Penthouse, Redbook, and more. She lives in San Francisco. Find her online at tinynibbles.com and on Twitter @VioletBlue.

The Accidental Cougar Blog Tour!

Posted on by

While researching the adult industry one day, I discovered that—according to various escort classifications—I am a mere month away from being a cougar.

This was a little surprising to me as I’m about to turn 35, and while I expect I might end up part-cougar one day, I was sure I was still a puma (cougar in training) until at least 40!

Fortunately, I wasn’t fazed. I have always admired cougars, both on film and in print—and this is why I’m excited about my guest and her new book! The sweet and legendary Sommer Marsden is here, and today, she’s going to tell us about vulnerability, house parties, and one super sexy cougar and cub pairing.

So without further adieu…take it away, Sommer!

Cover of The Accidental Cougar by Sommer Marsden

Vulnerable is a scary word…

In The Accidental Cougar Abbey finds herself vulnerable in many ways. Some of them aren’t really under her control. For instance, how she’s beginning to feel about young, handsome Charlie despite how many reasons her racing mind can supply not to. Others, she finds herself submitting to willingly despite nervousness. She trusts Charlie so she makes herself vulnerable in situations that seem completely foreign to a forty-something woman who’s been with the same man for more than half her life.

Such as a house party.

The house party scene finds Abbey surrounded by people much younger than herself and trying hard to fit in without pretending to be someone she’s not. A difficult position that would leave even the most stoic of us struggling.

Ironically, this wasn’t a hard scene to write. When it comes to large parties with lots of people I don’t know I can give social anxiety a run for its money. When I wrote it, I’d also just watched one of my favorite 80’s movies Jennifer 8 and felt that Christmas Eve party scene served as good inspiration for how turned around and upside down Abbey was feeling.

XOXO

Sommer

From THE ACCIDENTAL COUGAR by Sommer Marsden

 

“Ladies, this is Charlie’s date, Abby. Abby, this is my girlfriend Beverly.” The long legged, brunet with startling blue eyes nodded. She was decked out in skinny jeans, ankle boots and a gray sweater that played up those eyes to perfection.

She smiled at me but the smile didn’t touch her eyes. “And this is Dan’s girl Angie. And here we have Shea, Kendall’s girlfriend.” The two blondes turned to eye me up. Both gave equally stiff smiles and they muttered “hi”.

“I’m taking Charlie boy down to bail first. Otherwise I won’t get a day’s work out of him,” Ken said.

Charlie had found us and he gave me a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back.”

I could feel the three witches—I mean girls—watching me and I had to think fast. “Do you mind showing me to the powder room before you go?”

One of the girls slid her eyes my way and I held my breath when she said, “Oh, I can show her, Charlie.”

Charlie felt my arm go tense. I’d looped it through his just for the contact. I hated this.

Hated feeling out of place. Hated feeling desperate not to be alone with people. I’d conquered my mild social anxiety years ago. When you have young kids you can’t be shy. But this—this was worse than anything I’d ever encountered. I felt ready to bolt like a frightened horse.

“That’s okay, Bev. It’s on the way.” He maneuvered me through the candle and flashlight lit home. People banged into us, some laughing too hard, some caught in quiet conversation.

“Please don’t leave me,” I said. I felt my face grow hot and red with blush. Thank God he couldn’t see.

We stopped in front of the bathroom. Someone had thought to put a tall sconce with a candle inside on the sink. That way no one would drown in the toilet.

“It’s fine. I promise. I’ll go bail.” He waved his Solo cup and laughed. “Take my turn, do my duty and come rescue you. Then we can find a dark corner and make out. It’ll be really dirty and fun.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. That part of the scenario sounded nice. The part where he’d go bail and leave me up here, not so much. I sighed. “I’ll be fine. I’m being a baby.”

He hugged me, kissed me once on the lips while someone by the basement steps yelled, “Charlie! No escaping your man-duty, dude!”

“I’ll be right back, Ace. Promise.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, lying full-on to his face.

I went to the bathroom, watched myself in the large vanity mirror as I washed my hands.

I looked younger in the candlelight. Maybe I could carry a candle around on all my dates with Charlie.

Tears pricked my eyes. “Stop the pity party, Ace,” I said to myself in the mirror. The crazy yellow-orange flickering glow matched how tumultuous I felt inside. “You’re a grown woman who should be able to stand with a handful of twenty-somethings and have a conversation. Even if you’re faking it.”

Instead of leaving, I sat on the edge of the tub and tried to let time pass. So what if they thought I’d died in here? So what if I’d told Charlie I’d try and have fun but instead had tucked myself away from the party? So what?

Someone banged on the door and I jumped. I glanced at my phone’s illuminated screen.

Only about ten minutes had passed but it was long enough that people were probably waiting to come in.

“Yo! Someone needs to get in there!” the mystery person called.

“Coming!” I yelled. I stood, inhaled deeply and opened the door.

A guy with his cap on backwards ushered a girl inside. She wasn’t looking too steady on her feet and judging by the way she lurched toward the toilet, she wasn’t feeling too steady either. I managed to slip out the door before the retching began.

Since it was dark and only lit by splashes of orange candle glow or stark white flashlight illumination, I seemed to ping-pong from cluster of people to cluster of people. I took a left thinking I’d find the girls again—not that I was in any hurry to see them, but instead I found myself by the front door. I overheard someone say, “…as old as my mom. At least.”

I turned on my heels and tried the opposite direction.

They’re not necessarily talking about you. I tried to talk myself down but I wasn’t buying it. Who else would they be talking about? I hadn’t seen any other forty-somethings here at this noisy house party. Just me and a bunch of kids.

Blurb:

What would be the harm in a little fling? What would be so bad about bedding a young man who could technically be my son? He wasn’t my son. He wasn’t my anything. But he could possibly, if I could unclench my ass long enough, be my lover.

My lover.

What was so bad?

 

Buy Links:

Excessica: http://www.excessica.com/books/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=42&products_id=697

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00JX7KZ1U/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B00JX7KZ1U&linkCode=as2&tag=sommmars-20

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-accidental-cougar-sommer-marsden/1119329616?ean=2940149318216

All Romance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-theaccidentalcougar-1487017-149.html

 

Author Bio:

Professional dirty word writer, gluten free baker, sock addict, fat wiener dog walker, expert procrastinator. Called “one of the top storytellers in the erotic genre” by Violet Blue, Sommer Marsden writes for HarperCollins Mischief, Ellora’s Cave, Excessica, Xcite Books and Resplendence Publishing. She’s the author of numerous erotic novels including Lost in You, Restricted Release, Boys Next Door, Restless Spirit, and Learning to Drown. Visit http://sommermarsden.blogspot.com

*

Thanks so much for joining us, Sommer!

And oh, I can’t wait to get my hands on this one! (Or to potentially be a cougar, for that matter.)

XX,
Jade

 

 

Cover of The Delicious Torment

The Delicious Torment Blog Tour

Posted on by

Okay, everyone…I’ve been teasing you with this one for weeks!

Alison Tyler is something of a legend in the erotica world. She doesn’t seem to sleep, for one, as she’s always editing, blogging, tweeting, promoting others, and basically blowing everyone’s mind with how on top of it all she is. But she’s also been writing scintillating smut for decades. Her work is not only smokin’ hot, but smart. She leans toward heavy BDSM tales, but hers are not the commercialized, softly submissive and wide-eyed characters that have become so popular these days. Alison’s characters are fully fleshed out, real people, with desires ranging all over the place—top, bottom, dom, sub, rough, tender, heavy, light. Doesn’t matter. It’s all super hot!

This is a large part of why her current series is such a hit. Add to this that the story is semi-autobiographical, and you can understand why everyone is raving! Starting with Dark Secret Love, readers and reviewers cited the quality of writing and deliciousness of the tale. And then of course, there was the second book, aptly titled The Delicious Torment, which Alison is currently promoting across the blogsphere. This book is getting stellar reviews, too, leaving everyone deliciously tormented for book three. If you haven’t picked up this series, you best get right to it…

After you read on, that is—because I’ve got Alison Tyler here, sharing her thoughts on writer’s block and also a sultry excerpt from The Delicious Torment.

Take it away, Alison!

***The Delicious Torment Cover

One Way to Cure Writer’s Block:

People ask me all the time for my recipe to avoid writer’s block. The truth is that I don’t. I don’t do anything because I don’t get blocked. I always—and I mean always—move onto something else. This isn’t to imply that my writing never hits a rough patch. What it means is that my “New Stories” folder currently has 213 items.

Some pieces have only a title. Some a few lines. Some several thousand words. But I have trained myself to write on command.

And yet, like any writer, that doesn’t mean all my words are golden…

So curing writer’s block? Here’s one possible way, as featured in my book The Delicious Torment:

Jack came home to find me in a true black frame of mind. He’d never seen me like this before. I hate to say that I’m a perpetual optimist. Rarely, do I fall into true funks. Even when I was depressed during the months it took for me to break-up with Byron, I managed to have happy days. Sweet moments.

            Jack observed me in silence as he had his first drink of the evening, watched me stomp around in my heavy blue Docs, grumbling to myself. I wasn’t late on the deadline. But I’d wasted a day. I hadn’t taken my own standard advice of pushing the work aside and moving to something else. I hadn’t tried my basic tricks of going for a run on the beach, or even on the rubberized gray treadmill at Jack’s gym. Instead, I’d fallen in deeper and deeper. And, fuck me, I was beyond rational thought by the time Jack entered my mood.

            He walked around me, catlike, avoiding me. I’d said hello when he entered. I wasn’t a total idiot. I didn’t need to spark his wrath. But I couldn’t put on a smiling face, couldn’t tie on a false frame of mind like a lace apron around my waist and play happy housewife.

            He let me be for over an hour, and then he called me into the bedroom. I’d been reading and re-reading my notes, growing even more despondent about the likelihood that I’d be able to make this thing work. And then what? Would I have to go back to the beginning? Would I have to scrap the concept completely?

            Oh…god…

            “Samantha—“ Jack called, and I sighed, not wanting to get up from the desk, and not wanting to spend another fucking second staring at the words I disliked so intensely. “Now—“ His voice had been warm, welcoming, even. But at my hesitation, the change was immediate and intense. I could feel the cool air all the way to the spare room. And like an animal aware of a predator, I realized what I’d done.

            During the day, Jack had called, and I had been curt. Bordering on rude, even. I’d told him the situation, but I hadn’t asked him about his day, hadn’t been able to shake myself out of my mood even for a moment. As I headed toward the bedroom, I felt myself coming back to the present. For the first time all day long, I was able to leave the worries of my work behind. Because the worries of what Jack was up to surpassed them.

            When I got to the bedroom, I felt my mouth go dry. There was Jack, waiting. Jack, ready. Jack was dressed in a black t-shirt, a pair of black leather pants, and black boots. He wasn’t dressed like that to stay in—I could tell. He looked imposing and menacing in a manner I rarely saw. More serious somehow because of the severity of the outfit.

            On the bed was his favorite of my school-girl skirts, so short that you could practically read the back of my day-of-the-week panties (if Jack allowed panties to be worn). He had chosen a plain white blouse and a black cardigan, and a pair of high-heeled patent leather Mary Janes with ankle straps. White fishnet thigh highs completed he look. There were no panties on the bed. But his belt was coiled up next to the school-girl uniform.

            “When we’re finished here, you’ll get dressed. I don’t want to be late.”

            “Finished—“ I echoed, feeling the dismal mood slowly draining out of me, replaced bit by bit with a fresh wave of fear.

            “You don’t think I’m going to let your behavior today go unnoticed.”

            I hung my head.

            “Not rewarded, of course,” he continued. I heard the dark smirk in his voice, yet I knew that had I looked up, his face would be stone.

            “No, Jack.”

            He didn’t tell me what to next. He took over, coming forward and placing me roughly against the wall, palms flat to keep myself steady. He worked the buttons on my fly before hauling my jeans and panties down for me, just past my knees. His belt was already off, and he had easy access, was able to grab it up, double the leather, and start without hesitation.

            Each stroke felt impossible to bear. I don’t know why or even how the pain can fluctuate—or maybe it’s my ability to take the pain—maybe it’s the mood that matters. But I was in that place, that bratty, mule-headed place, and I lost my head. I tried to turn, to tell him—what? To tell him No? That it wasn’t fair? That I hadn’t done anything specifically to him? I’d been in a funk because of my writing. That was all.

            But none of that counted. My mood had bled into Jack’s world. And that’s all that mattered to him. That and the fact that I tried to fight the punishment, which changed the situation in a flash.

            He was on me, now, dragging me over to the bed. And I fought him, not wanting to get away—not really. If I had been desperate, I would have acted differently. We both knew that by now. I would have groveled. Begged. Wept. Instead, I tested him, struggling, and he had to work to get cuffs on me, to pin me down the way he wanted, ripping my jeans and panties all the way off and going to work on my ass now, seriously, with the belt, blow after blow, until the struggling subsided and I was….

            What was I?

            I was…. Tamed?

            No. Never tamed.

            Broken?

            No, not that either. Jack didn’t want to break me. He liked me wild and spirited.

            Fixed.

***

Ohhhh yeah. You know you want to pick that one up, and you can do so right here. Did you miss Dark Secret Love? You can grab that one right here.

I’ll give you one guess what I’m about to go read. 😉

XX,
Jade

Alison Tyler is the author of more than 25 novels, including Dark Secret Love and The Delicious Torment (Cleis Press). She has been called “a hell of a writer” by erotic super-editor Violet Blue. Visit her at alisontyler.blogspot.com and follow her at twitter.com/alisontyler.