Just a quick post – I’ve returned from a festival today and I’m footsore (literally – my camping field was full of stinging nettles), sunburnt, exhausted, dusty and wonderfully spiritually renewed! So I’m dashing in and out to announce the winner of my spare copy of Curvy Girls.

Congratulations to Michelle (Mimi). I’ll be emailing you for your address to send the book on to you. I hope you enjoy it!

Yessss, I get to host K D Grace again! One of the UK’s foremost erotica writers and a tireless champion of all things sexy, K D is always welcome round these parts. Today she’s going to tell us all about her flaming hot Mischief novella, Surrogates. Hello there!

Calling the Shots

Maybe it’s just me, but I’ve always found voyeurism just a little bit hotter when the voyeur is actually calling the shots. While the idea of watching two people go at it without their knowledge has its own heat, there’s something so bold and so in your face about stepping right up to the plate and saying, ‘I want you to do this to him. I want you to touch her there. I want YOU to play out MY fantasy while I watch and have a wank. That kind of control in that kind of hands-off situation is a kink unto itself. The control and distance that occurs when the voyeur calls the shots is a bit like a live version of a computer game. The one in control gets all of the thrills but none of the risks.

I’ve toyed around with the voyeur calling the shots in almost all of my novels and in several short stories as well, but I always wanted to take the idea to the next level and write something that was actually centred around the very premise. Surrogates was born from that kinky idea of a watcher who also controls the situation. To complicate things just a little more, I made the caller of the shots a man of substantial wealth, who is bored in his marriage, but obsessed with remaining faithful to his wife. Daniel Alexander doesn’t consider it being unfaithful if he’s only watching and masturbating. And his strange hands-off (at least hands-off each other) relationship with his hot gardener and would-be lover, Francie Carter gets kicked up to the kinky next level when Dan convinces Francie and his friend, Simon Paris to do the dirty while he watches and calls the shots. That way Francie can pretend the Simon is him, and she can do to Simon what she’d like to do to him, and well … you get the picture.  There’s all kinds of room for nasty sex, chaos and mayhem to unfold, especially when I add Bel, the bored wife, who has her own idea of borderline fidelity. Of course, there are always unexpected surprises, and even in Dan’s voyeuristic lop-sided ménage, there’s no calling the shots in matters of the heart, which makes for a mixed-up comedy of errors while sex runs amuck in the veg patch, on the massage table and in the ladies loo at a posh restaurant. Here’s a little excerpt from my garden of voyeuristic delight.

Blurb:

DANIEL ALEXANDER III takes his marriage vows seriously. Until he gets the balls to ask his wife, BEL, for a divorce, watching each other masturbate is all he can offer his beautiful gardener, FRANCIE CARTER. But when Dan’s friend, SIMON PARIS, agrees to be his surrogate, affairs of the heart get complicated.

Excerpt:

Dan wasn’t listening. ‘Francie, darling, I know how hard it is for you, with us not able to really be with each other. I promise that’ll end soon, and we can be together properly. But in the meantime, it’s not right me having Bel and you having no one. So I’ve come up with a solution for us. Simon will be my surrogate.’

‘What?’ Francie had pushed herself back against the sink as far as she could. Her heart raced in her throat and her face felt like it would burst into flame. ‘You want me to … You want us to …’ She nodded to Simon, then she glared up at him. ‘Is this why you’re here?’

But before Simon could do more than make a couple of fish gasps, Dan ploughed on. ‘Oh don’t you see, darling, it’s so perfect. If I can’t be with you, if I can’t give you what I know you so desperately need, then who better to help us both out that my dearest, most trusted friend, Simon.’

‘He’s a landscaper. He’s hired help just like I am.’ She sounded a lot more hysterical than she meant to. What she wanted to sound was outraged. What she wanted to sound was incensed.

‘No, sweetheart, no. Simon and I are old friends. We went to uni together. We spent a wild summer inItalytogether. Darling, I’d trust Simon with my life.’ He shot Simon a meaningful glance, then his gaze came to rest on her. ‘I’d trust him with the person in my life I value most, the one I most want to make happy.’ He caught his breath, and his face softened. ‘Please, darling. This is a gift, something I can do for you. You can pretend he’s me. I can make love to you through Simon, and you, anything you’ve wanted to do to me you can do to him.’

‘Anything?’ She spoke around her racing heart, which felt like it would jump right out of her mouth.

‘Yes, anything, darling. Anything.’

‘Good.’ Before she had time to consider what she was doing, she slapped Simon, hard, hard enough that he recoiled. Both men gasped, and her hand stung like fire. But she ignored the pain, squared her shoulders and looked Simon right in his now watering grey eyes. ‘Then you can give him that for me.’

To her total surprise, Simon did exactly as she said. He walked over to Dan and slapped him, slapped him hard enough to knock Dan up against the staging table, slapped him hard enough to draw blood where a tooth cut his lip.

The electric silence that followed was interrupted only by the heavy breathing of all three. The two men glared at each other for a moment, sizing one another up. Trembling all over, Francie grabbed the edge of the sink for support, just as Simon turned his back on Dan and came to stand in front of her. He stood so close his breath ruffled the hair that had come loose from the clasp she wore it up in, so close that the rise and fall of his chest beneath his T-shirt was impossible to ignore, so close the heat rising from his body felt magnetic.

‘Does that about sum it up?’ He asked.

For a second, she thought she might cry. But instead, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. She kissed him as hard as she had slapped him, like she wanted to eat him up, like she wanted to crawl up inside his warmth. And he kissed her back. Jesus, how he kissed her back! He kissed and nipped the hollow of her throat around to the sensitive place below her ear, then he whispered in between efforts to breathe. ‘If you want me to stop, tell me now before it’s too late.’

‘Don’t you dare, don’t you dare, don’t you dare,’ she gasped over and over again, guiding his hand to the knot tied below her right breast that held her wrap-around dress closed.

He yanked it hard, then he shoved and pushed until the dress slid from her shoulders and pooled on the floor around her gardening clogs. Somewhere in the periphery of her mind she heard Dan’s fly unzip, a sound she’d grown used to over the past few months, a sound that constantly taunted her with everything she could see yet never touch.

But there were other things to focus on today. Simon kissed his way down her sternum and cupped her breasts, cupped them and kneaded them until her nipples strained against the callouses of his stroking fingers. Then his mouth took over. What her breasts lacked in size, they made up for in sensitivity, and her whole body thrummed as he suckled and bit, nibbled and licked.

Buy Surrogates Here:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
Mischief

Find K D Grace at:

Website: http://kdgrace.co.uk/

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/kd_grace

Now,  tell me you aren’t tempted… Thanks for being the perfect guest, as always!

It was my birthday this week and, to celebrate, I’m giving a book away. Yep. That’s how I like to celebrate.

The book in question is a copy of the Curvy Girls anthology, edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel, a feast of plenty in more ways than one. You can read all about it here.

Just comment below to be entered into the draw.

In other news this week, Uniform Behaviour, the anthology of smartly-dressed smut edited by Lucy Felthouse is now available in paperback. And I received author copies of Musical Beds, the second in my orchestra-themed Food of Love trilogy. It’s out officially in September – I’m looking forward to more music-themed posts this autumn.

This month, one of the new Mischief releases is the short story anthology Captivated – as you can probably work out, there’s a theme of bondage and D/s running through the book.

Nice cover, too.

My story, For My Own Good, kicks off the collection. Here’s a teaser:

‘This is really what you want?’

I suppose the question had to be asked, but the posing of it made me doubt myself for a moment. Was it? Really?

I looked at the cage in the corner of the room. It was such an elegant thing, the bars highly polished and shining, the interior decorated in a style best described as ‘harem luxe’. I had seen this cage in my dreams.

His hands were on my shoulders and I nuzzled his knuckles with my cheeks.

‘You know it’s for my own good,’ I told him. ‘I’m not safe on the streets.’

A soft laugh came from above.

‘That’s true enough. Well, then. If you’re sure.’

He took my arm and led me over to the open gate.

Before I could crawl in, there were some formalities to be observed. First, the blindfold, then the handcuffs.

I entered the cage on my knees, shuffling forward into a world of velvets and silks that was all dark to me, my fingers twisting behind my back. I reached what felt like a central area and sat down, my knees drawn up to chin, waiting.

I heard the cage door slam, a key turned, some bolts slid across.

Then I heard footsteps, retreating, the soft click of the door beyond.

I was alone. Have I mentioned that I was naked?

Now was my chance to soak into my role. I had been taken. Not kidnapped, not arrested, not even abducted but taken, spirited out of my life in a bid to save me from some worse fate. The point of this captivity, the thing that excited me the most about it, was that it was being done in the name of love and protection.

After a while, who knows how long, I lay down on my side. The room temperature was warm but my nipples felt engorged anyway, perhaps with anticipation. I tried to become the girl taken from the streets by an unseen captor, the helpless, heedless creature meant for enslavement, if only she knew it.

By the time the door opened again, I was there, in the space I’d craved, ready to inhabit it fully.

‘Who are you? Where is this?’ My voice sounded lost and foolish in the dark. I sat up and hugged my arms around me, facing the direction of the footsteps.

‘I thought you might be hungry. Come over to me.’

I recognised the speaker. It was someone I was supposed to fear.

‘Oh, it’s you! What have you done with me? You’d better let me go or…’

‘Sh. Come over to me.’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘Come over here or I’ll make you. It wouldn’t be difficult. And I have food.’

My stomach was empty, it was true. After a moment’s hesitation, I capitulated and moved in the direction of his voice.

‘Why are you doing this?’ My nipples reached the bars first, brushing the cold steel, which did nothing to reduce their size.

‘You’ll understand, in time.’

‘I want to understand now.’

‘Patience,’ he said. I heard a spoon scrape against china, then the tip of the metal touched my lower lip. I smelled porridge, milky with perhaps a sprinkling of sugar. I opened my mouth, irritated by my own obedience, but wanting to taste and swallow and banish the nagging emptiness from my stomach.

He pushed the spoon inside my mouth and waited for me to lick off the last remnants of porridge before removing it.

‘That’s it,’ he said softly. ‘It’s good for you. Eat it up.’

He continued to feed me until I felt enough strength to resist him and I stopped opening my mouth.

‘No, finish it,’ he reproved, trying to force the curved metal between my teeth.

I shook my head, turned my face away.

‘Oh, Phoebe, you will make me come in there. You don’t want that.’

As well as this, there is kinky delight from the pens of Lolita Lopez, Sommer Marsden, Charlotte Stein, Valerie Grey, Elizabeth Coldwell, Kyoko Church, Heather Towne, Lisette Ashton and Aishling Morgan.

It’s available imminently, from Mischief Books.

I’m so very pleased to be hosting for the first time a writer I admire very much – Teresa Noelle Roberts. Congratulations to her on the release of her new book, Fox’s Folly.

Welcome, Teresa – the floor is yours.

Justine has been kind enough to let me visit here to celebrate the release of my new m/m paranormal romance, Fox’s Folly. Fox’s Folly is part of my Duals and Donovans: The Different series from Samhain. Witches and shape-shifting duals, along with other “Differents,” share a world not so different from our own with ordinary humans—and when witches and duals meet, the animal attraction is nothing short of magical!

Fox’s Folly is the third book to be released in the series, but it’s a direct prequel to Book 2, Foxes’ Den, and is actually the first story in chronological order, before the oppressive, magic-regulating Agency becomes the menace it is in Lions’ Pride and Foxes Den. How did this happen? Well, my editor asked how Paul and Tag, the heroes of the ménage Foxes’ Den, met…and a plot bunny was born.

Only there’s no such thing as one plot bunny, right? I have a feeling Tag’s foxy-fox dual siblings (and there are a lot of them) may spawn a series of their own.

Which I promise to write in order!

BLURB

What happens in Vegas lasts forever…if you’re lucky.

A Duals and Donovans story

Las Vegas is the wrong place for an inexperienced witch like Paul Donavan. But he has no choice; his family owes a debt of honor to a half-fae casino owner, whose guests have been dying under mysterious circumstances. The normy police haven’t connected the dots between the deaths, and the owner has called in his marker.

When Paul literally runs into fox dual Taggart Ross, the instant, powerful attraction between them bristles with red flags. Not only should there be no sparks between him and this “hillbilly with a tail,” the fact is a dual couldn’t have committed murder-by-magic. But until he’s got proof, caution rules.

Tag’s own suspicions are on high alert. Magic killed his favorite uncle, and Paul, who senses Tag’s dual nature way too easily, should be a prime suspect. Except Tag’s libido responds to the witch in a way that shouldn’t happen.

Whatever this thing is between them, the raw sexual energy feeds a power that becomes their best hope of drawing out the killer before he, she, or it strikes again. Until love gets involved, and things get real complicated, real fast…

Warning: Sly foxes, smoky Southern drawls, sex magic, dangerous demons, tacky Las Vegas glitz, and did we mention the hot guy-on-guy sex?

(SEXY) EXCERPT:

“Can’t be slow and gentle,” Tag said as he fumbled for the lube. “Not this time. Can’t be.” “Want to say more, but the wordside’s losing focus. Need too much, and the fox is still drunk on your magic. May get rough. If that’s not okay…”

In response, Paul groaned and thrust his ass out. “Sometimes quick and dirty’s what you need.” Slow usually fed the magic better, but with all the buildup, all the flirting and the interrupted make-out sessions that left him frustrated as a fifteen-year-old with a nosy little sister, quick and brutal, should be fine.

Tag didn’t say anything else, just stroked himself until his cock glistened with lube.

Paul craned his neck to watch. “So beautiful,” he said. “Tag, you are so beautiful. Do you have any idea how delicious you look doing that?”

Tag smiled, a feral grin, the teeth sharper and more vulpine than they had been just moments before.

He lubed Paul up then. Paul braced himself for something just this side of painful. His last steady lover, a woman, had been more than happy to take a strap-on to him now and then, witches being an open-minded lot, but she’d always used a smallish toy and pushed in slowly and gently. His ass was out of practice for taking anything as thick as Tag’s cock—not that he’d mind a few seconds of discomfort that would turn into pleasure.

But Tag took more care than his fierce words had suggested, exploring with well-slicked fingers, opening him up quickly and not exactly delicately yet thoroughly. Just this side of too rushed, but the urgency was habanero hot. One finger, then two, and then three, and Paul was moaning, “Oh Lord yes, that’s amazing, Tag, yes,” and fucking back against the fingers as if the rough impatience was the slow fuck he usually craved. “Please, your cock. Please.”

Tag withdrew his fingers then, but instead of entering him, he pressed himself over Paul and started kissing and licking and touching everywhere. He sniffed Paul’s skin as he did, as if Paul’s scent was intoxicating. His hard cock pressed against Paul’s backside, pushing as if it wanted in now, not just into the opening that was so eager to accommodate it, but somewhere deeper.

Come visit my website, http://www.teresanoelleroberts.com/?p=578, and leave a comment by July 18 for a chance to win a copy of this new release.

Linkie Goodness: Buy the Book

http://store.samhainpublishing.com/foxs-folly-p-6899.html

http://www.amazon.com/Foxs-Folly-ebook/dp/B007JLMJJ8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1340070929&sr=1-1&keywords=fox%27s+folly

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/foxs-folly-teresa-noelle-roberts/1109598082

Linkie Goodness: more about me

http://www.teresanoelleroberts.com

https://twitter.com/TeresNoeRoberts

https://www.facebook.com/teresanoelleroberts