Brilliance: I Want to Lick Your Brain

Posted on May 7, 2014September 9, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

I have a strong suspicion this post should be subtitled Jade A. Waters Insanely Squeals About Her Crushes and Idols, but that seems so long.

Nonetheless, you’ve been warned.

Here’s the deal—the other day on Twitter, Valerie Alexander pointed out a kick ass song. It’s the Lana Del Rey version of “Once Upon a Dream” for the upcoming movie Maleficent. This song sent me squealing for a few reasons: I love Sleeping Beauty, I love the character of Maleficent, and most of all, every time I hear a Lana Del Rey song, I nearly want to lick her brain. I find her mesmerizing and clever, and her music gets me all worked up because it’s so hauntingly good.

To clarify, “I want to lick your brain” is not the same as a crush. For example, the aforementioned movie Maleficent stars one of my lifetime girl crushes—Angelina Jolie. She shares that title with Jennifer Connelly (come on, did you see her in, oh…every movie she ever did?), but these are still just crushes. And don’t even get me started on my male crushes—that list is so long I could write posts for years, starting with one on Hugh Jackman, in Wolverine and tap dancer form, separate or together. (Um, okay. Let’s go with together.)

But back to Lana…she’s one I want to brain-lick. She inspires thoughts and admiration, and a complete desire to somehow capture her essence in order to fire something creative in me. That is what it means to want to lick someone’s brain.

Let’s take another example. Remember Christopher Pike? He’s the author of such YA books as Whisper of Death, Remember Me, and Season of Passage. He rocked my reading world from age nine to eleven, and I still revisit his wickedly crafty writing about once a year. Now, granted, I do have a little crush on him because he’s SO DAMN BRILLIANT, and men who are that clever usually send a tingle up my spine, so we’ll call him a hybrid. That is, if I met Mr. Pike, I’d not only want to tongue every firing nerve in his head, but, I’d also willingly strip and lie down in the middle of the road to do whatever he asked. He’s just that good—he inspires me and turns me on. What a lucky fella. (Eh-hm. Paging Mr. Pike…)

Woman in stilettos sitting on a chair breaking from her book to stare at the ceiling in delight.

So. Damn. Good.

Most people I want to brain-lick can be classified as idols, but the term doesn’t seem to do them justice. A perfect example is Shanna Germain. This is a woman who is so brilliant that every time I finish one of her stories, I put the book down and utter a very loud, “Holy shit, Shanna, you’re fucking amazing.” Yes: Every. Single. Time. She is so inspiring I wish I could slow dance with her for hours in the hopes that I might mystically absorb some of her thoughts through proximity.

Another example is Alison Tyler. I’ve been worshipping her brain since I found her a few years back in Bedding Down with “It’s Not the Weather.” Nothing she writes disappoints—she’ll usually leave you stunned, stupefied, delighted, and wanting more. Then you add to Ms. Tyler’s phenomenal writing magic that she happens to be one of the nicest people on the planet, and maybe you can understand why I classify her as a brain-lick recipient. (Bonus: she’ll be hitting my blog next week for her Never Say Never blog tour. But put your tongue back in your mouth—I get her brain first.)

I have other brain-lick loves, but this post could go on for a while and I might sound a little crazier than I already do. Instead, I’m going to turn the question around on you—what’s your ultimate compliment for brilliance? Is it, “You’re fucking brilliant,” “You’re my idol,” “I want to capture your essence in a bottle,” or something else?

And more importantly, who is the recipient of your adoration, affection, and brain worshipping?

XX,
Jade

Tamsin Flowers is Visiting For Breakfast…With a Sexy New Book!

Posted on April 16, 2014September 9, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

There I was, eating my first breakfast (I’m a big eater), and then it hit me:

The lovely Tamsin Flowers is coming over for breakfast two!

You may remember Tamsin from her charming novella The Christmas Tattoo, or even from her crazy sexy zombie erotica collection, Zombie Erotoclypse. Either way, you’re in for a treat! Tamsin brought her hot buns over for some…well, hot buns (gluten free, for me), and she’s here to talk about her spicy new novel, Her Boss and His Client.

Over mimosas, of course!

Drinks are ready and our special guest has arrived. She’s got a hot excerpt and some thoughts on the pleasures of greed. Talk about perfect mimosa conversation! 🙂

Take it away, Tamsin!

Is it greedy to want two men?

Short answer: yes, of course it bloody is! But can we forgive a girl when she just can’t decide between two luscious hunks of masculine charm? Of course we can! Sometimes it’s just too difficult to decide who we want most. Sometimes we’d like a bit of variety in our love life. But trying to juggle multiple lovers can become decidedly difficult…

This is just the dilemma that faces advertising copywriter Dana Lewis, the heroine of my latest release, Her Boss and His Client. When a bad news affair with the boss turns sour, Dana is forced to find a new job. And she goes into work on the first day with every intention of behaving as she should. No more affairs with work colleagues. No more sex in the office. Only that’s before she meets her new superior, Jack Brent. Devastatingly good-looking, charisma leaks out of this man like sweat and she doesn’t even get through her first day at work without having thoroughly naughty thoughts about him. And, it soon becomes apparent, he’s having naughty thoughts of his own!

But if fraternizing with her new boss wasn’t bad enough, Dana also develops a ‘thing’ for their most important client, travel tycoon Nathan Drake—suave, sophisticated and totally loaded. Not to mention, Jack’s polar opposite in the bedroom!

So, can it really be so wrong for her to want both of them?

Here’s an excerpt:

Jack seemed to sense my concerns and he got up from his chair and came across to where I was sitting. He stood in front of me, looking down with a serious expression on his face. Then he bent a little to take the wine glass from my hand and put it down on his desk.

‘Dana,’ he said, so quietly I almost had to strain to hear him. ‘You’re going to be fine here.’

He dropped to his knees and before I realised what was happening he’d cupped my face in his hands.

‘You’re going to be brilliant.’

He stared at me intensely again; those gold-flecked eyes only inches from my own.

‘We’re going to be brilliant together.’

I wasn’t quite sure what he meant but I know I moved my face forward a fraction of an inch. I didn’t mean to but he did the same. I could feel his warm, wine scented breath on my cheeks.

‘Oh, Dana,’ he whispered, shaking his head.

If I was reading his expression right, he was conflicted over what to do next. He still held my face in his hands, still held my eyes with his and I watched as his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. My core muscles tightened with desire as a small sigh escaped my lips.

‘Jack…’

He put a finger on my lips and shook his head. His look said all that needed to be said and when he took the finger away he immediately replaced it with his lips, softly brushing my own.

That first kiss, always a heart-stopping moment, seared itself like a brand on my conscious and sub-conscious mind. His lips were soft but he plundered my mouth as if it were treasure for the taking. They moulded themselves to mine and then I felt the tip of his tongue slowly running along first my upper lip and then the lower. At the corner of my cupid’s bow, it breached the gap and as my mouth opened willingly to give him access, I heard a low groan emitting from deep within his throat. Then his tongue touched mine and greedily exploring the cavern of my mouth. He tasted of wine and he smelt of figs and sandalwood and myrrh.

I pushed back with my tongue to gain entrance to his mouth, barely able to sit still in the chair as my body struggled to get closer to his. His stubble ground against my chin and my cheeks, adding to the sensation in direct contrast to the softness of his tongue and the hard, smooth surfaces of his teeth. I wanted to kiss him forever, to never come up for air. I took a handful of chestnut hair at the back of his head to hold him steady as my mouth quite literally devoured him.

‘Dana…’ He pulled back from me. ‘We shouldn’t… we can’t be doing this. I barely know you.’

‘But you know you want me.’ My voice sounded different in my ears, thickened with desire, my breath coming in short gasps.

‘But we have to work together.’

He was right. I took a deep breath and looked into his liquid caramel eyes.

‘I’d better go,’ I managed to blurt out.

Jack stood up and moved back to be out of my way. I got up and straightened my skirt. I was so wet; I had been so ready for what had been about to happen. Having to stop felt like a kick in the guts. My legs turned to jelly and I had to steady myself by gripping the arm of the chair.

‘Are you alright, Dana?’

I wasn’t drunk, so I don’t know if that makes what happened next better or worse.

‘Jack, you started something. Now I need you to goddamn finish it.’

I could hardly believe the words which were coming out of my mouth and, by the look on his face, I don’t think Jack could either.

I took a step towards him and reached out with my hand. The bulge in his jeans was clear to see and when I touched it, I felt his cock twitch in response through the denim.

When our lips met again, the kiss was anything but gentle. Jack’s tongue pushed its way as far into my mouth as he could get it and it twisted with mine as our teeth clashed. At the same time his hands were pulling at the front of my blouse, ripping it open and wrenching it out from the top of my skirt. As he pushed up my bra to release my breasts, I stepped back so I could lean against his desk for support. His mouth pulled away from mine and trailed kisses down my throat as his hands kneaded my chest.

I gasped. I was so turned on and I needed to get him inside me fast. My hands were on his belt buckle but he pulled away.

‘Lie back,’ he commanded, sweeping papers, files and stationery off his desk and onto the floor.

I lay back on the cold, hard surface and felt Jack pushing up my skirt.

‘Stockings, Dana! You have no idea what they do to me.’ I could feel his warm breath on my belly as he said this and then, as he yanked off my panties, lower down.

‘Spread ‘em,’ he said, and I opened my legs as wide as I could, letting them hang over the edge of the desk.

So Jack Brent liked to be in charge, in control. I raised my hips to offer myself to him and felt his mouth take possession of my cunt. First, he kissed it gently, like he’d kissed my mouth; running his tongue up one side and down the other, tasting my juices, learning my shape. Then he pushed his tongue deep inside me, sweeping it around and around, scratching the tender area outside with his stubble, stretching inside to reach high up to my g-spot. I bent my knees and brought my feet up onto the edge of the desk, pushing my thighs still further apart as my hips reared upwards.

At the same time Jack’s hands were working magic on the tender buds of my breasts, pinching and squeezing my nipples till they burned. I writhed beneath his touch, groaning and gasping, as he pushed me closer and closer to the brink of orgasm.

‘Please…’ I moaned and he knew immediately what I wanted.

Buy links:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Tamsin Flowers

Tamsin Flowers loves to write light-hearted erotica, often with a twist in the tail/tale and a sense of fun. In the words of one reviewer, ‘Ms Flowers has a way of describing sexual tension that forces itself upon your own body.’ Her stories have appeared in a wide variety of anthologies and she is now graduating to novellas, for publishers including Cleis Press, Xcite Books, Secret Cravings and Totally Bound. This year, she entered NaNoWriMo, with the intention of penning her magnum opus in the very near future. In the meantime, like most erotica writers, she finds herself working on at least ten stories at once: while she figures out whose leg belongs in which story, you can find out more about her at Tamsin’s Superotica or Tamsin Flowers.

***

I am so delighted we lucked out and had Tamsin over today! I hope you enjoyed hearing about her book, too. Make sure to check it out!

In the meantime, I’m off to go drink more coffee. Er, mimosas…

XX,
Jade

You Always Remember Your First

Posted on April 2, 2014January 7, 2016 by Jade A. Waters

Okay, no holds barred: I have a lot of firsts to share today.

For example, the first time I experienced anything akin to being turned on was watching Pepé Le Pew in Looney Tunes. No, really. I loved the French skunk. I loved the way he chased that pretty cat around and smothered her in affection. I particularly loved the way he held her and talked romantically into her ear, and how she swatted him away. For me, it was the chase—and while I imitated his lines because I liked the accent, I actually imagined some French person chasing me with affection and adoration one day. (Note: I have yet to date anyone French.)

My first kiss happened when I was seven. It was a dare. I’d had a crush on Michael for a whole year. He had this hair that looked like a Ken doll’s—it was short, blond, and wavy, but it somehow stayed close to his head (seven-year-olds don’t wear hairspray, right?). He always played football at lunch, so one day I stormed out and lectured him because he dropped the football. Yes. A seven-year-old, scolding another seven-year-old for dropping a football. Then, as he stared at me dumbfounded, I planted one on him. (Okay…maybe a little too much Pepé Le Pew viewing for me.)

My first “real” sexual experience happened under the murky sky of a light rain. I met a boy three years older than me and he walked me under a tree, where he cradled me in his lap and woke parts of me I didn’t realize existed. That experience was transformative—and lovely, to say the least.

The first time I had sex was with a different boy who also happened to be three years older. We wrote each other poetry and fantasized about living in other centuries together. Our relationship didn’t last long, but we did end up having one nostalgic fling almost four years later—when we drank wine, made love, and embraced while reading poetry to one another, all night long.

These are all some of my favorite firsts, but as open about these as I am, they’re not the firsts I meant to talk about.

You see, I wanted to talk about another first—the first erotica I ever read, because I will always, always remember it.

I read about sexual things at quite a young age—I’d devoured several V.C. Andrews and Christopher Pike novels by nine, for goodness sake—but in my early teens, I stumbled upon something on my mother’s bookcase: Delta of Venus by Anaïs Nin.

Now, I confess, I already knew what sex was, but I’d never truly read it. And while the contents of those pages mesmerized and delighted me, and I worship the great Anaïs Nin to this day, it didn’t occur to me that reading those pages could be a source of sexual excitement. I read them analytically, enthralled to discover that one could weave sexual words and scenes so eloquently—and yet I didn’t completely understand that it might “turn me on.” Maybe it did and I just didn’t pick up on it. Who knows. But it did make me want to read more.

So somewhere around there, I signed up for a book club. I could order as many books as I wanted (as long as I could afford them), and I thought this was the coolest thing since peanut butter. Soon, I grew bold. Right under my parents’ noses, I ordered The Best American Erotica 1993 and concealed the book under my bed. Night after night, I read the stories within—and while Anaïs Nin had opened my eyes, these stories rocked me. They made me hot. They made me whisper things to my boyfriends about the naughty things I was reading, and how we should try this, and that, and did you know you could do that?

Now, this is a very old collection, but there are two stories that I’ve never, ever forgotten—even two decades later. One was “Rubenesque” by Magenta Michaels, and the other “Five Dimes” by Anita ‘Melissa’ Mashman. “Rubenesque” showed me body love, exhibitionism, and anonymous sex, while “Five Dimes” showed me lovers having fun and exploring. In fact, I may well have talked a boyfriend into playing “Five Dimes” with me. (You’ll have to read the story to understand what that means, but I assure you, it’s hot.)

So yes, technically, my first was Anaïs Nin. But the first I really remember, the first that got my pulse racing, my cheeks pink, and my body covered in goose bumps—that first happened with The Best American Erotica 1993.

I haven’t stopped reading erotica since.

Now, as for the other firsts—they’re delightful memories, too…which brings me to you.

Do you know what I’d love to hear? YOUR firsts. First kiss, first turn-on, first sex, first sexy read—you pick. Maybe if I’m really lucky, this space will serve as your very first confession! 😉

Can’t wait to hear…

XX,
Jade

P.S. The results of Alison Tyler’s Smut Marathon Round 2 are up—check them out here! (I survived! Hurray!)

So, Two Erotica Authors Walk Into a Bar…

Posted on March 5, 2014September 14, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

Okay, that wasn’t exactly how it went, but I got your attention, didn’t I? 🙂

Here’s the real story: Malin James and I have become super close pals since the release of The Big Book of Orgasms: 69 Sexy Stories. She had a fabulous little story in there called “Hard Knocks” (check it out if you haven’t read it!), and after we met at the reading at Good Vibrations in San Francisco, we decided to start emailing one another all the time and proudly established monthly “shop” lunches. It’s been delightful!

So, when we got together this weekend, we decided to scavenge through Barnes and Noble in search of the book we shared pages in. It took a few tries, because somehow, the smut was scattered all over the place. There were a bunch of Cleis Press anthologies in “Literature and Essays” (what?), and then a bounty of more nonfiction erotic options under “Love and Sexuality.” This section included how-to manuals and Penthouse Letters, and somehow, the little book that could—AKA The Big Book of Orgasms—got shoved over here. (Yeah, we didn’t get it either. In fact, we debated rearranging the store for a minute, but our Thai lunch was calling.)

Since it was very exciting to see this excellent book in the store, we opted to take a picture with it. This also took a few tries (damn iPhones) and caused a tiny bit of a scene…I mean, we were holding quite a hot looking orgasm book and giggling as we attempted to center our faces plus the sexy cover image into the viewfinder without looking. But hey! It turned out okay, so we posted it on Facebook and Twitter. And then our wonderful editor, Rachel Kramer Bussel, liked the photo so much she reposted it…with a challenge!

Check out The Big Book of Orgasms contributors @JadeAWaters & @MadeleineMalin. Then tweet your pics of the book too!

— Big Book of Orgasms (@BigBookofOrgasm) March 3, 2014

We’d love to see your pretty face with this pretty book, too. Make sure you give @BigBookofOrgasm a shout when you tweet it.

Here we are with our first anthology!

In the meantime, Malin and I might need to come up with alternate locations for this same picture. Next time, maybe we will hit a bar!

🙂

Haven’t picked up The Big Book of Orgasms: 69 Sexy Stories yet? You can do so right here.

Until next time…

XX,
Jade

“Heat” Over at Oleander Plume’s!

Posted on February 17, 2014December 6, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

Today is the second part of the triple smut fest!

Which means…I am actually over at Oleander Plume’s site today. She is a fellow contributor in Best Women’s Erotica 2014, and today she’s asked me to come on over and write a flash story. In fact, she offered me a challenge—dun dun DUN!—which I gladly accepted. Her response to the challenge is coming on Wednesday, but in the meantime, please hop on over to her site to read “Heat”!

More on what inspired the story and the challenge is posted there too, but to give you a little preview, I’ll leave you with this:

Now, please go read “Heat” at Oleander Plume’s. Hope you enjoy it!

XX,
Jade

“Two Shots of Gin”—An Exclusive on Tamsin’s Superotica Valentine’s Day Countdown!

Posted on February 9, 2014December 6, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

The wonderful Tamsin Flowers is at it again—and this time, she’s got an exclusive flash story from little ole me!

You may remember Tamsin from my post about her delightful novella, The Christmas Tattoo, or maybe even from her super sexy Christmas advent calendar (on which she featured hot pics and excerpts of two of my stories, “Toys” and “Office Santa”). Well, Tamsin is not only an erotica darling, she’s also pretty savvy with countdowns. And since it’s February, she’s been running a smokin’ hot Valentine’s Day Countdown over at Tamsin’s Superotica!

Today, I’m thrilled to be a part of it. Tamsin asked me for a snippet—but since we’re pals, I figured I’d write a story just for her. And, it’s free! 🙂 So, please click on over to Tamsin’s place right now to read “Two Shots of Gin.”

While you’re there, be sure to peek at her previous posts for the Valentine’s Day Countdown. She’s hosting some incredible guests as well as showcasing excerpts of her own fabulous work, and there’s more to come as we count down to Valentine’s Day…

I hope you enjoy “Two Shots of Gin”!

XX,
Jade

The Delicious Torment Blog Tour

Posted on January 22, 2014September 14, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

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!

***

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.

A Tattoo to Warm the Heart

Posted on December 18, 2013September 14, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

As promised, I’m here today with a special surprise—my first guest ever! I’m delighted to host the wonderful Tamsin Flowers today, who has not only hosted some of my excerpts over on her website, but who has also warmed my heart with a romantic and sexy story: The Christmas Tattoo.

I posted an official review of The Christmas Tattoo on Amazon, but here’s the skinny on this fabulous guest of mine: Tamsin has a true knack for mixing the sweet and sultry. Each time I read her work, I find myself smiling at her ability to merge warmth and romance with erotic sex in believable, relatable characters—and in the case of The Christmas Tattoo, I was completely charmed. Read on for a blurb, excerpt, buy links, and a little more info about Tamsin Flowers!

Here’s the blurb for The Christmas Tattoo:

When sexy red-head Bradie Clements comes home from Washington to nurse a broken heart and build bridges with her estranged father, she’s certainly not on the lookout for romance. After catching her boyfriend Kris in bed with her best friend and boss, all she wants to do is run and hide. But a chance encounter with local tattoo artist Colton Bassett leads to an unexpected appointment with his needle. Even though it’s cold outside, the temperature rises to boiling point as the two discover an irresistible attraction. But then Kris arrives on the scene to claim her back in time for his family Christmas and Bradie starts to remember what she saw in him. Tormented by jealousy and suspicion over Colton’s pregnant business partner, Bradie starts to wonder if her new romance is over before it’s begun…

Enjoy a sexy excerpt:

Bradie followed him through to a small studio. The walls in here had the same patchwork of designs and there were two work stations, one with a black reclining barber chair and the other, a sort of articulated massage bench which could be arranged into a range of positions. A work station along one wall carried the tattoo artists’ equipment: a huge selection of ink bottles and a number of scary devices that looked for all the world like medieval torture instruments.

Bradie considered them and swallowed hard.

“Take a seat,” said Colt, going over to the bench and picking up a particularly vicious-looking instrument.

Bradie backed up and found the back of her thighs pressing against the arm of the barber chair.

“Sit. I can’t do you standing up.”

Bradie stumbled back into the seat, her breathing suddenly faster and the sound of her heartbeat drumming in her ears.

“But… I haven’t told you…”

Colt advanced on her and pressed a button on the device. A sudden whirring noise whined out of it.

“Wait…”

Colt towered over her now. He turned the gadget off.

“You don’t remember me, do you, Bradie Clements?”

Bradie sat bolt upright.

“From?”

Colt rolled his eyes.

“School. Only four years in the same homeroom, Bradie. We even went on a date once. But the less said about it the better.”

Bradie closed her eyes and delved back in time. The height… the dark eyes… a date to the movies.

“Colton Bassett? But you had black hair at school. And you were skinny.”

“Okay, enough,” said Colt, running a hand through his blonde hair. “It figures, I’ve changed. But you haven’t. Still the long red hair.”

“So why didn’t you say anything on the train?” said Bradie.

Colt put down the tattoo gun and perched on the edge of the massage table.

“I saw you and I remembered the date. I didn’t want to remind you of it.”

Bradie could see why. It had ended in disaster. She had been an innocent co-ed and Colt had tried to feel her up in the back row. She’d panicked and run out of the theatre and then spent the rest of the school year regretting it. The blood rose to her cheeks again. Shit, why did he keep having this effect on her.

“And now?” she said.

“Probably better to get it out in the open if you’re gonna be in town for a bit. Look, I’m sorry for the way I behaved back then.”

“No, I am. I always wished I’d stayed in there.”

WTF? She had some sort of runaway mouth on her this morning. She bit her lip.

“That came out wrong.”

“I’ll change the subject,” said Colt. “So what sort of tatt do you want?”

Bradie thought for a moment and then shrugged.

“A Santa sleigh?”

Colt laughed.

“Or perhaps a candy cane?” he said. “They’re always popular. But seriously?”

“I had a bad year, so something that means a new beginning maybe. Perhaps a few words or a quote.”

“Where would you have it?”

“Not on my arm or leg. Somewhere more private. My hip, maybe?”

The room seemed suddenly smaller, hotter. Colt stood up.

“Show me.”

With shaking fingers Bradie popped the top button of her jeans and tugged the zip halfway undone. Then she pushed the waist band down a way to expose the jut of her hip bone.

“Here,” she said. It came out a whisper.

Colt came closer. He ran his thumb over the place she indicated, brushing the top of her black lace panties. His warm skin hummed against hers but his touch sent a red hot jolt of current up through her. Her breath caught in her throat as she was suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to stroke his skin in return.

“It’ll hurt, across the bone there.”

He moved his thumb a little closer to her navel, pushing the black lace and denim down a fraction further.

“Whereas here would be less painful.”

Bradie’s eyes met his. Colton Bassett. Her teenage crush. And now with his hands back where they’d been once before. Their eyes locked and his face came closer. Bradie took a deep breath as a surge of adrenalin, lust and anticipation flooded through her. Was this about to happen?

The Christmas Tattoo is available at Amazon.com, Amazon UK, Kobo, and Xcite Books.

Tamsin Flowers loves to write light-hearted erotica, often with a twist in the tail/tale and a sense of fun. In the words of one reviewer, “Ms Flowers has a way of describing sexual tension that forces itself upon your own body.” Her stories have appeared in a wide variety of anthologies and she is now graduating to novellas, for publishers including Cleis Press, Xcite Books, Secret Cravings and Totally Bound. This year, she entered NaNoWriMo, with the intention of penning her magnum opus in the very near future. In the meantime, like most erotica writers, she finds herself working on at least ten stories at once: while she figures out whose leg belongs in which story, you can find out more about her at Tamsin’s Superotica or Tamsin Flowers.

“Office Santa” is at Tamsin’s Superotica Today!

Posted on December 4, 2013September 14, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

Admit it—you read the previous excerpt I posted for “Office Santa” from Holiday Spice, but really you were thinking you’d like a naughtier snippet before you buy it on Amazon (still on sale!).

Lucky for you, I shared an exclusive and spicy excerpt with the charming and talented Tamsin Flowers, and it’s up today. Tamsin is the author of The Christmas Tattoo, a Christmas novella that I’m just loving. She’s also doing a racy advent calendar each day on her site, and I’m thrilled that “Office Santa” gets to be a part of it!

Want to see that excerpt now? Click right here to head on over to Tamsin’s Superotica so you can read it…and be sure to check out Tamsin’s sexy work as well!

XX,
Jade